Brutus
by Sophia Hawkins
Summary: The A-Team search for a couple's daughter who disappeared from the military; but they get more than they bargained for when their search leads them into the middle of an assassin's plans.
1. Chapter 1

Brutus

"Well Mr. Rhodes, we've come a long way and would like to know why you sought to hire us," Hannibal told the middle aged man and his wife, both of whom looked sick from worry.

The four commandos stood in the living room of a middle class home in the middle of a blue collar neighborhood in a small town just off from New York; they'd been contacted by the couple a while back, but had first to be subjected to the same tests as all the others to be judged if their case was worth taking. The man and his wife had met the demands of Hannibal through his various disguises and aliases, and now was the first time that he and the others had come face to face with the couple; but this time Hannibal had decided it would be better to meet the Rhodes' on their own ground and so the four fugitives had gathered at the couple's home instead of their usual method of having the clients come see them.

"We want you to try and find our daughter," Mrs. Rhodes answered.

"What, was she kidnapped?" Face asked.

"We don't know," Mr. Rhodes said, "Right now she's still just missing, but she's been missing for a very long time."

"The police couldn't find anything?" Murdock asked.

"They said it wasn't a police matter," Mrs. Rhodes answered, "You see, the military took it over and they never told us if they found anything."

"The military?" B.A. repeated, "What've they got to do with this?"

"Our daughter was training to become a Navy SEAL," the husband told them as he went over to a table and picked up a framed photograph of their daughter, "She joined six months ago but we found out that four months ago she disappeared from training, nobody has seen or heard from her since, and the army quickly shut it down and shut it up so we don't know if they ever found anything."

"The army?" Murdock asked.

"Army, Navy, it doesn't seem to matter," Mr. Rhodes told them, "Everybody's involved in it somehow. Everybody's in on it but nobody knows anything, if that's not a conspiracy I don't know what is."

Hannibal took the picture from the father and saw the daughter. Not a particularly good looking woman by any chance; still young, perhaps 21 at the time the picture was taken, short wavy red hair, small gaps in between her teeth, and she looked built a size larger than most women they'd encountered.

"What's her name?" he asked.

"She'd never tell you, it's Jean but she quit answering to that a long time ago, now…the last time we saw her, she was only answering to a nickname, the Saint."

Hannibal managed to muster half a smile as he commented, "Cute…so do you think your daughter went AWOL?"

"We don't know," Mrs. Rhodes said.

"The real reason I want to hire you," Mr. Rhodes told them, "Is because I want you to find a man who goes by the name Brutus."

"Who's he?"

"We don't know," he said, "But shortly after Jean went missing, there have been a string of murders occurring in the area, at several crime scenes the killer left a calling card of the SEAL insignia, he calls himself Brutus, nobody knows who he really is, what he looks like, or where he could possibly be, we think she might be involved with him somehow."

"Let me get this straight," Hannibal said, "You want us to try and track down a man who nobody's seen, nobody can identify, and nobody has any idea where to start looking for him?"

"With all due respect, Mr. Smith, we went through the same trouble trying to find _you_ in the first place," Mrs. Rhodes told him.

Murdock let out a slow whistle, followed by a cynical and drawn out, "Zing."

"We've done what we could to help you out," Mr. Rhodes said as he picked up a pile of papers and handed them over to the team, "We've kept records of where all the Brutus murders were and may have been committed, and have them marked by the dates they occurred on, we've tried to establish a pattern but haven't found anything other than the fact that a few of the victims had also served in the military."

Face glanced over the papers and said, "Somebody's got it in for Uncle Sam's boys."

"We don't care how much you charge for your services," Mrs. Rhodes told them, "We'll pay it, just bring our daughter back to us, please."

"We'll do everything we can," Hannibal told them, "But you understand that this is a business for us, we'll have to ask for part of the money up front."

"We understand," Mr. Rhodes said.

"In cash of course."

"Of course."

* * *

><p>"Murdock, I trust your opinion because currently you seem to be the craziest one among us," Hannibal said as they got out of their van, "How insane did we have to be to take this case? The military's all over this thing and where they're not the police will be, it's a suicide mission."<p>

"Besides that," Face added, "We haven't been able to find anybody who can tell us anything about either the Rhodes' daughter or this Brutus guy, and since she went AWOL and we don't know that this guy even exists, there's very little that _can_ be found out about them. But we also need to consider the possibility that this girl is already dead somewhere, that's the best reason everybody would be keeping quiet about what happened."

"If she did die then it's a matter of where did she die, and how, and what happened to the body?" Hannibal replied, "Either way there are too many questions unanswered for us to be comfortable with."

One by one they made their way into the narrow alley where one of the first Brutus murders had taken place, hoping there might be something found there that the police had overlooked but would link them to the missing girl. Here the police had found a 35-year-old SEAL sniper blown into Swiss cheese; dental records for identification had been out since most of the holes had gone through his face, the only saving grace the police had in finding the man's name was that his fingerprints were still intact. The man whose name had been Randall Murtaugh, they had found, couldn't have any connection to the Rhodes case because he had been sent home with a purple heart a year before. On the brick wall opposite them, they saw the SEAL trident scratched into one of the bricks.

"Lot of details," Face said as he saw the insignia, "Either a lot of patience or a lot of rage, or both, bad combination." He looked around the area and said, "I wonder if there's any significance in the places where these people died…for the victims, unlikely, but for this Brutus guy…I wonder what it is that's making him tick like this."

"I say if we ever find him," Hannibal said, "We sit him down with Murdock and let him find out."

"Nobody else in training at that time went AWOL," Face said, "But SEALs do have a high drop-out rate, maybe this Brutus guy is one of the rookies who couldn't take it, or thought he could and was drummed out. Either way, it's going to be a long list to sort through."

"And we've got to figure out a way to do it without getting the whole damn army involved," Murdock added, "That's the missing piece of this jigsaw puzzle."

"There's more than one, fool," B.A. said, the first thing he had said since they left the Rhodes' house.

"Whatcha thinking, B.A.?" Face asked.

He didn't say what he was thinking, he only explained, "I'm going to go pay the Rhodes' another visit, I don't think we asked the right questions the first time."

* * *

><p>Mrs. Rhodes was taken aback when she opened the door and saw B.A. standing there.<p>

"You can't have found anything yet," she said.

"Not yet," he replied as he came in, "I've got a few questions that might be helpful in finding your daughter."

Mrs. Rhodes closed the door behind her and asked, "Like what?"

"There's a possibility that your daughter may be working with this Brutus guy…would you describe her as a violent person? Could she kill someone if she had to?"

"She was in the Navy."

"I know, but most people who go into the military aren't born killers, they're trained to be, I know. Do you think she'd have it in her to kill a person?"

"If she had to, I suppose," Mrs. Rhodes was clearly not expecting a question like that, "She wasn't violent when we knew her."

"If we find her," B.A. continued, "She'll have to know that you hired us, is there anything we can take that she would recognize and know we're legitimate?"

"I'm not sure," Mrs. Rhodes said.

"Does she still have a room here?"

"Yes, upstairs, I'll show you."

B.A. followed the woman up the stairs and listened as she explained, "Everything of hers is still here…I go in once a week and clean everything, but nothing's out of place, when she comes home it'll be just like she left it."

She showed him into the room on the left. It was something to look at alright, the woman was apparently a packrat of some sort; the room was filled with comics and books and audio cassettes, a pair of bongo drums, a couple of mannequin heads, a motorcycle helmet, movie posters on the walls, a small radio, a few old toys of wooden trucks and plastic machine guns, model planes hanging from the ceiling, a baseball bat, and a bushel basket full of baseballs.

"Jean is very unique," Mrs. Rhodes said, "She collects the oddest things."

"No kidding," B.A. said as he looked around the room, "Anything in here that's one of a kind, that she would recognize?"

The nervous woman looked frantically around the room as though her life were depending on finding something. She went over to the bed and picked up a small teddy bear.

"She'd recognize this, it's not made anymore, and they weren't a chain, they were given out at a fundraiser the year she was born, impossible to find anymore."

Not exactly what he had in mind but if it would do the trick.

"We may also need some of her clothes when we find her," he added, "There's no telling where we'll find her and what condition she might be in."

As the worried mother cautiously tread through her daughter's room as though she were walking over a tomb without trying to disturb it, B.A. looked around at the room and got a closer look at everything. It didn't look like any 22-year-old would-be SEAL lived here, just about anything else perhaps, most likely a kid, but not a soldier. Something about the whole thing just rubbed him the wrong way, there was something about the case that wasn't right.

"Why did your daughter want to go into the SEALs?" he asked.

"I don't know," the woman replied as she went through the closet and sorted through the few outfits there were to pick from, "There wasn't much discussion about it, just seemed to be something she jumped into without really thinking it through…she never mentioned anything about the military before that, I never knew she had any interest in it."

"Maybe she didn't," B.A. replied.

Mrs. Rhodes stiffened at his words and turned around looking even more nervous than before, "What?"

"Nothing, ma'am," B.A. said, "I'm just thinking out loud."

"Anyway, before we could try and talk some sense into her, she had gone off and signed up for them, and they took her…but I don't get this at all," she continued.

"Is there anywhere you think your daughter might go if she was in trouble?" B.A. asked, "Someplace to hide out until the heat was off?"

"I don't know," Mrs. Rhodes replied, "I'd like to think if she were in any kind of trouble, she'd come back home to her father and I."

"No offense, Mrs. Rhodes, but if your daughter went AWOL, this house is the first place her superiors would be looking. Did she ever mention going somewhere?"

"I'm, I'm trying to think," she said, and shook her head, "No, I don't think so, I don't know. I…could I have missed something?"

"Calm down, mama, we'll find your little girl and bring her back," B.A. told her, "Alive."

* * *

><p>"Okay, it's taken a while, but I think I've figured out the pattern to these murders," Face said as he put the map down in front of Hannibal and Murdock, "Going by the dates and labeling them in chronological order…"<p>

"What about the victims?" Murdock asked.

"That's the only thing I couldn't crack," Face said, "However, it looks like if there's going to be another Brutus murder, it's going to occur somewhere along this street and this corner," he pointed to a marked section of the map, "…now there's an alley behind the street here, and that's where the bodies have been found lately, in back alleys…if this guy is going to attack again, this seems the most likely place for it, it's just a matter of when."

"And who," Hannibal added.

They heard the van pull up outside and saw B.A. get out carrying a large rolled up paper bag with him.

"It doesn't look like lunch," Face said.

"Hey B.A, where've you been?" Murdock asked as he came up to the man.

"Get out of my way, fool," B.A. told him, and explained, "I've been trying to get a handle on this girl we've got to find, and I think the whole thing's crazy, Hannibal."

"Well naturally, B.A., if it were a normal matter, the police would be handling it instead of us," Hannibal replied.

"I don't like this whole thing, man," B.A. told him, "Something about it all just ain't right."

"What do you mean?" Face asked.

B.A. just shook his head and replied, "This whole thing." He went over to Hannibal and pulled the picture of Jean Rhodes out of his chest pocket and explained, "There's no explanation why this woman would go into the SEALs in the first place, why would _anybody_ join with having no previous interest in the military?"

"He's got a point, Hannibal," Face told him, "It's not generally a snap decision, especially since they got rid of the draft, some forethought has to go into it, and if she did, why didn't she tell her parents about it?"

"When we find her, we'll have to ask her," was Hannibal's response.

* * *

><p>A few days passed with no news breaking of any new murders that could be tied in to the Brutus case; following Face's instinct on the matter, they staked out the alley behind the corner of 10th and Republican: B.A. on one end of the street in his van, Hannibal and Face in a rented car on the other end, and Murdock watched the surrounding area, generally residing in the park behind the alley, where all the crazy people went at night to talk to themselves. On the 5th night of their stakeout, it rained and came pouring down in sheets. Each vehicle had the windshield wipers running but knew they'd have a hard time seeing anybody coming or going from the alley without drawing any attention to themselves.<p>

"B.A., you see anything?" Face asked into his walkie-talkie.

"Nah, man, ain't anybody around here," B.A. answered, "I think you got the wrong place."

"Or maybe this Brutus guy found out we're on his tail and got nervous and is taking a week off," Face replied.

"Maybe he just don't like committing murders in the rain," Murdock suggested from the backseat of the car where he was curled up in a blanket like a cocoon, "It's _cold_ out there tonight."

There was a mutual silence between the three men for a few seconds before they heard the crackle of static on the walkie-talkie followed by B.A.'s voice, "Somebody just went into the alley."

"Can you tell if it's two people?" Hannibal asked.

"Nah, just the one," B.A. answered.

Considering there hadn't been so much as a drunk wino occupying the alley all week, they decided it was worth checking out. Hannibal started the car and rounded the corner and drove into the alley and stopped when they saw that there wasn't anybody in there. They got out of the car and looked around and they were immediately met with and blinded by the headlights on the van; B.A. was in position, so he would've seen if anybody had come out of the alley his way, and they knew nobody had gotten out before they swerved in. The door to the van opened and B.A. stepped out and he entered the alley from the opposite end and asked them, "What happened?"

Hannibal shrugged, "There's nobody here, B.A., you must've been seeing things."

"Hey man, I'm not the crazy one around here!" B.A. replied defensively.

"Aw no, that's my job," Murdock pointed out.

B.A. raised his arm over his eyes to block the rain from his eyes and he looked around, frustrated, "Man! What is going on around here?"

"It doesn't look like anything," Hannibal said, "Let's get back in the car."

"Hey Hannibal," Murdock grabbed the back of his jacket to get his attention, "When'd you get a parking ticket?"

"I didn't," Hannibal turned back towards the car to see what Murdock was talking about and he saw and the others saw, something had been stuck under one of the windshield wipers.

"What is this?" Face asked.

Hannibal went back to the car and pulled out an envelope from the windshield. He pulled out a note and read it by the light from the high beams on the van. "Smith, Peck, and Murdock," he read, "I know you're onto me but you're not even close to finding me. However I'm game for a little hunt and am willing to clue you in to my next appearance just to keep things interesting." He had to read it fast because the rain was soaking the paper and blurring out the ink, "Tomorrow night at 8 o' clock in a bar on 2nd Avenue, are you up on your Greek mythology? I'm looking forward to seeing you but good luck trying to spot me, signed, Brutus."

"Hannibal," Face managed to get out, "This guy had to have just placed that on the windshield, meaning he _was_ here in this alley, that B.A. was right. But we couldn't find anybody here…so how did this guy stick this on the car and get out without being seen when we were all here?"

"He's a tricky Dickie, that's for sure," Murdock exclaimed in his usual annoying voice, "Either that, or he's the invisible man!"


	2. Chapter 2

"The note said a bar on 2nd Avenue," Face said to himself that night in the hotel room he and Murdock were sharing as he paced around. He was trying to keep his voice down because B.A.'s room was next door and he didn't want that guy coming through the walls to complain about the noise, "But 2nd Avenue is a very long one with a dozen bars between points A and B, so which one was this guy talking about?"

Murdock was already in bed, though he'd only taken the top cover off and wrapped it around himself without bothering to even remove his shoes or his cap, but he wasn't asleep. He looked over at his friend and called over, "Hey, Faceman."

"What is it, Murdock?"

"Will you tell me a bedtime story?" he asked.

Even for Murdock that was a new one and it took Face by surprise; he stopped in mid-step and looked over to the bed, "What?"

"Will you tell me a bedtime story please?" Murdock got up on his knees at the foot of the bed so he could make eye contact with Face and said, "Just a little itty-bitty one to put me to sleep, please?"

It was no wonder it was hard to stay mad at him. Face gave in and said, "Alright, Murdock."

"Oh goody-goody," he settled back on the bed and was shaking with enthusiasm.

Face tried to keep a straight face as he sat down by the bed and started, "Well…once upon a time there were three pigs."

"Oh not that one," Murdock told him and shook his head.

"Alright, three bears," Face said.

Murdock still shook his head, "Not that one either."

"A fairy princess."

"No," Murdock shook his head.

"Seven dwarfs."

"No."

Face was starting to get annoyed, "A big green giant."

"No," Murdock persisted, "Tell me the one about Pandora and the forbidden box that should never be opened, or the world would be destroyed." He saw the sudden change in Face's demeanor and he asked him, "Say, that's a Greek myth, isn't it?"

* * *

><p>"There are 12 bars running through the length of 2nd Avenue, but there's one in the middle, on the corner of 2nd and Lexington that's called Pandora's Bottle," Face explained to Hannibal and B.A., both of whom he'd gotten out of bed to tell, "This has to be the place that Brutus was talking about."<p>

"Get me out of bed at 2 in the morning fool, it had _better_ be the right place," B.A. told him.

"So 8 o' clock at Pandora's Bottle, this guy's supposed to show up," Hannibal said, "Or so we think."

He and B.A. turned when they heard a low hissing sound and saw that Murdock was whispering something to Face.

"What is it?" Hannibal asked.

Face turned to Murdock and said, "Go ahead, Murdock, tell him."

"Uh, Hannibal," Murdock said as he took a step closer to them, but remained close to Face as if he'd have to hide behind him for protection once he said what he was thinking, "What if Colonel Lynch kidnapped this girl, knowing that her parents would call us in, and then when we go in to find her, he could catch us?"

Hannibal and B.A. looked at each other and B.A. said, "The crazy fool might have something there. Nothing else Lynch has tried has managed to work."

"Well that's just a chance we're going to have to take, B.A.," Hannibal replied, "We've already taken this case, we can't back out now. Besides, I want to find out what's going on, anything that involves more than once branch of the military, something's got to be cooking."

"Something else about the whole thing I don't get," Face said, "Now granted it's been over 10 years since we were in the army, and a lot has happened since then and everybody's more liberated now, but I didn't know the SEALs were taking women."

"They said she went AWOL so she had to be in there at some point," Hannibal told him.

"Or did she?" Murdock asked.

* * *

><p>"Oh boy I'm worried, Faceman," Murdock said as he sank low in his seat in the van, "I've got a bad feeling about this, what if they find out who Hannibal is?"<p>

"He knows what he's doing, Murdock," Face told him, "He said he'd be back here as soon as he found out anything."

"Crazy fool though," B.A. commented, "How many times does he think he can pass himself off as Lynch before he does get caught?"

They heard a knocking on the window and saw it was only Hannibal, dressed in a military suit and wearing a dark curly wig and dark moustache and black sunglasses, and with cotton stuffed in his cheeks to give him something of a chipmunk complexion.

"How did it go?" Murdock asked.

"It was very enlightening," Hannibal answered as he pulled the door shut and started shedding his disguise.

"Did they really think you was Colonel Lynch?" Murdock asked.

"They didn't question it, all the same B.A. I think it'd be a good idea to get out of here."

"Right," B.A. started the van and sped away.

"So what did you find out, Hannibal?" Face asked.

"Well as it turns out, the records _do_ show a recruit named Jean Rhodes, only it's a he, and he _did_ go missing four months back. It turns out that the Jean Rhodes _we're_ looking for enlisted in the army, they said she didn't pass the training period and was drummed out."

Murdock made a bunch of small strange noises and hit himself in the head as he said in a bad Paul Newman impersonation, "What we have here is a failure to communicate."

"It sounds like somebody got their records crossed," Face said, "But it still doesn't explain why they didn't tell the Rhodes that. For that matter, why would their daughter tell them she was going into the SEALs if she was going into the army?"

"Well I think we can agree," Hannibal said as he peeled off his mustache, "The Rhodes are nice people but not too bright, they're not going to ask a lot of questions and risk causing trouble, not where the military's involved anyway. It could be their daughter knew that and used the SEALs as a cover knowing they'd never be able to trace her through them."

"But if she was just drummed out of the army," Face chimed in, "Why didn't she go home instead of making them worry for four months?"

"Well for that," Hannibal told him, "We're still going to have to find Miss Rhodes and have her explain it herself."

"Right, but where do we look for her now?" Face asked.

"I'd say Pandora's Bottle at 8 tonight is a good place to start," he replied, "If there's some chance she _is_ tied in with this Brutus guy, we might be able to find out."

"I just had a thought," Murdock said, "What if this other Jean Rhodes who _was_ in the SEALs _is_ this guy Brutus?"

"That would certainly explain why he's been AWOL for so long," Face commented, "But even if this was the case, why is both the army _and_ navy involved?"

"I still think Lynch might be involved in this," Murdock suggested, "And if he is, that would explain it, wouldn't it? A guy like him could probably muscle his way in about anywhere, couldn't he?"

Face and Hannibal looked to each other and wondered. Face was the only one who gave voice to his own ideas about it, "It could be he's learning a few new tricks."

* * *

><p>Pandora's Bottle was a crowded, noisy, neon-lit bar that drew in people like moths to a flame with their combination of cheap drinks and loud music. Hannibal, Face and Murdock sat close to the bar while B.A. stayed by the door, passing himself off as a bouncer. The others looked around at everybody who came in and kept an eye out for anybody that might look suspicious; of course that was no easy task because everybody looked weird.<p>

"Boy-ooh-boy," Murdock said in one of his funny voices, "These' my kind of people."

"How reassuring," Face dryly remarked.

Murdock's eyes rolled around in his head as he looked around at everything and everybody in between drinking shot glasses of soda that he poured from a bottle on the counter.

Face checked his watch and saw that it was a minute to eight. He leaned over towards Hannibal and he asked, "Did you happen to find out what this other Jean Rhodes looks like?"

"No," Hannibal answered, "But I have an idea if he is Brutus, that he'll make his presence known."

"What makes you say that?" Face asked.

"Just a hunch," Hannibal told him, "I have an idea that Brutus couldn't pass up an opportunity to gloat."

Murdock poured another drink but before he could swallow it, his face scrunched up in a sickened cringe and he doubled over moaning and dropped the glass. Face jumped off his bar stool and knelt down beside him and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Oh boy, I feel sick, Faceman," he said through grunts of pain, "My stomach is _killing_ me."

Face grabbed Murdock and started to help him up when they heard a loud explosion and hit the floor. Hannibal heard it too, and that was about the last thing he heard as it occurred just a few inches away from his head. Something on the bar's counter had blown up and there was a bright flash and a lot of smoke, and everybody in the bar screamed and panicked and ran to the doors in packs. B.A. pushed past everybody and went in the opposite direction, to see if Hannibal was alright. When the smoke cleared, B.A., Face and Murdock saw that Hannibal's gray hair was standing straight up and he had blood coming out of one ear and he appeared to be dazed.

"Hannibal, are you alright?" Face asked.

* * *

><p>"This guy Brutus is really cute," Hannibal commented when they got back to their hotel room, "He makes his appearance known by setting a small bomb on the counter right where we're sitting."<p>

"Yeah but the question is how?" Face asked as he went over to Murdock's bed and opened a package of Alka-Seltzer, which Murdock forwent the water for and just put the tablets in his mouth and let them dissolve.

"Ever since we arrived at the bar, nobody put anything on that counter, meaning it was already set when they got there, and that he _knew_ where we'd be sitting, but how?" Face wanted to know.

"Ooh, Face!" Murdock started yelling, "Face!"

"What's the matter now?"

"I just thought of something, what if I'm not sick, what if those drinks I had were poisoned?" he asked.

Face looked over to Hannibal with a look of uncertainty and a hint of worry as he recalled, "_Nothing_ was put on that counter once we came in, the soda bottle was already there and waiting."

Murdock looked over to his comrades and asked in a worried voice, "'M I gonna have to go to the hospital?"

"It's not a possibility," Face realized, "If anybody would recognize us…"

"Get the phone book," Hannibal told him, "Look for any local doctors and their home addresses, we'll get one to make a house call."

"Do they do that anymore?" Face asked.

"We'll make them," Hannibal replied and looking over to their other comrade, added, "Right, B.A.?"

"Oh man," B.A. grumbled as he shook his head, "Leave it to that crazy fool."

If Murdock had been poisoned, it hadn't been with anything too potent; he got sick shortly afterwards and upon returning to the bedroom announced he was starting to feel better, and he resumed eating Alka-Seltzer like popcorn.

"Are you thinking what I am?" Face asked Hannibal when he saw the look on their leader's face.

"Just something to get our attention," Hannibal said, "Just like the bomb…if it was spiked it was probably something herbal."

"Ipecac maybe," Face thought.

Murdock groaned as he turned onto his side and pulled the covers up. He looked over towards the door and saw something, "Hey guys, what's that?"

They turned and saw what he did, an envelope slid under the door. Hannibal went over and got it and took a letter out of it:

"Good to know you boys are up on your toes, tonight was a bit of a bust but if you're hungry for more, you'll have another chance when I next make myself known; the alley behind 17th Street, be there tomorrow night by 9 but don't expect an early arrival on my part. A word of warning, if you don't come looking for me _I_ will come hunting for you. Signed, Brutus."

"This guy is just stringing us along," Face said.

"Maybe," Hannibal replied, "But he's also upping the stakes…we seem to have gotten his attention as well, he's threatening to come after us if we don't show. What happened tonight was child's play, I'm not sure we want to find out what he'll do if we stand him up."

* * *

><p>"Hey Faceman, you never did explain, how <em>did<em> you figure out what this guy's pattern is to the people he kills?" Murdock asked Face the next morning.

"It's all very simple, Murdock," Face told him, "Though gratitude really goes to the Rhodes for compiling all the information for us in the first place." He took out a map and unfolded it and Murdock ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the spots where Face had drawn around the sites of the murders, "Using the dates as a starting base, I applied a little connect-the-dot logic to the scenes of the crimes…what's this look like to you?"

Murdock turned the map around on all sides and upside down before concluding, "I don't know."

"Took me back to astronomy," Face took out a constellation map and showed Murdock, "Following the dots based on the dates, it starts to look like Orion."

Murdock looked at the map and started counting the dots there, and comparing them to the ones on the other map, and he came to the conclusion, "Brutus needs to kill three more people to complete the picture."

"Which poses the next question," Face told him, "Does it stop at Orion or is this guy going to cover all the constellations?"

Murdock whistled at that thought and said, "Hope the next one's not Sagittarius." Another thought went through his mind and he looked up and went, "Hmmm, might put a whole new spin on the Zodiac killer."

Face laughed nervously and remarked, "That's just what we _don't_ need." He saw Murdock bent over the constellation map again and asked, "What're you doing?"

"Just trying to remember which is my birth sign," Murdock answered.

* * *

><p>"Incidentally, Face, did you happen to see if this alley marks the next spot on Brutus' kill sheet?" Hannibal asked as they entered the alley behind 17th Street that night.<p>

"I checked, and as far as that goes, we should be perfectly safe here," Face told him, "As safe as you can be in the middle of a dark alley behind the abandoned business district part of town…where no one can here you scream."

"Hmmm," Murdock looked around at everything as he walked around with an invisible leash in his hand, "I don't like the looks of this place, uh-uh, neither does Billy, I think I'll put him in the van."

"Don't do that," Face warned him, "B.A.'s in there, and you know how much he…doesn't like Billy."

"It's 9:20 already," Hannibal said as he looked at his watch, "I wonder just how long this guy's planning to leave us out here before he makes his next move."

"Hey Hannibal, what'd you think he's going to do next?" Murdock asked.

Face laughed dryly and said, "Knowing our luck he's probably going come through this alley in an 18 wheeler to turn us into road kill."

"Oh yeah, I saw that movie!" Murdock said, "McQ with John Wayne, that was a good one…not as good as the westerns though, I like the westerns…"

Face leaned in towards Hannibal and asked him, "Exactly how long _are_ we planning to stand out here looking like idiots?"

"As long as it takes," Hannibal replied, and then under his breath he added, "However long that is."

Face looked up at the sky and saw there weren't any stars out and it looked like it might rain soon. "I hope he shows up soon."

* * *

><p>Face heard sirens in the distance and that was when he realized that he'd fallen asleep; as he got up he also saw that the others had fallen asleep as well, and all of them were lined up against the wall in the alley, he shook Murdock and Hannibal and they started to come around and a minute later so did B.A. It was still dark and now it was starting to rain, and it only took a couple of minutes to develop into a full downpour.<p>

"What happened?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal was about to ask how they could've fallen asleep on the job when he got the answer in the form of a burning odor in his nose.

"Chloroform!"

Face was about to ask how they could've been knocked out when they never saw anyone, but they didn't have time because they could see blue and red lights close by and the sirens were deafeningly loud at this point. Murdock scrambled for the van but Face pulled him back as they decided to first check out what the commotion was about. Leaving the alley they saw that there were several police cars and an ambulance three blocks down. Hannibal felt certain that in the middle of night, in the rain, even with the lights from the cars, that nobody would recognize them and they headed on down and acted like curious passersby to see what was the matter.

They quickly got the answer and it about made them sick; three blocks down was another alley and in this one there were several cops standing around the scene of another murder. The body was covered with a tarp, but it quickly became obvious to the four men that it was another Brutus murder; confirmed with full certainty when a cop's flashlight shone on another trident scratched on the wall.

"This wasn't part of the pattern!" Face told Hannibal, "The next murder wasn't supposed to be anywhere near here!"

The police wouldn't let them through to get a better look at the crime scene so they went back to the alley behind 17th Street and got back to the van when B.A. noticed another envelope placed under the windshield wiper. Hannibal opened it and read, "Sorry, Smith, you didn't think it would be that easy, did you? Took things a little off course but the target was all the same. Now the ante is upped; innocent lives are coming into play, unless you want blood on your hands you won't try to interfere as the next move is made by a messenger I'm sending. Contact will be made tomorrow morning at 11 in the lobby of the Empty Arms Hotel on 34th Street. Looking forward to seeing you then, can't say the same for you. Brutus."

Murdock let out a whistle and said, "This is getting to be like an Easter egg hunt."

Face took the note and looked it over, "It doesn't say who the messenger is or even if it's a man or a woman, you think it'll be the Rhodes girl?"

"Could be," Hannibal said, "I wonder if Brutus would be expecting us tonight?"

"What do you mean?" Face asked.

"Well he seems to have everything pretty well planned out in advance, he says come at 11 tomorrow, what if we went over there now and stayed through the night?" Hannibal asked.

"He might be expecting that," Face said.

"He might, but if he is, I'm interested in seeing what he's going to do," Hannibal told him, "He's already gotten his kill for the night, and if he wanted us dead he would've tried something more serious than that flash bomb at the bar. I want to know what he wants with us. I think the Rhodes were right and he does have their daughter, if he does it makes perfect sense why he wants us off the case."

"But if he knows about us he has to know we're not giving up that easily," Murdock replied.

"That's true," Hannibal added, "All the more reason I want to see if we can drop in early and maybe catch this guy."

* * *

><p>Acting on a hunch, Face had gone on ahead to speak to the clerk at the front desk and see if perhaps there was a reservation for them; finding none, he went ahead and got them four rooms for the night and once on the second floor, they checked out their rooms one by one for any hidden assassins or booby traps or anything that might jump out and surprise them. When that search proved futile, they went their separate ways and turned in for the night.<p>

B.A. peeled off his 40 pounds of gold jewelry and changed for the night, stopping once to yawn and stretch and cracked his knuckles in the process; of all the jobs they had done, he swore this one was the weirdest one yet, and one of the more exhausting ones. He reached into his shirt pocket and took out the picture the Rhodes had given them of their daughter and he took another look at it; a 21-year-old girl who at the time of the picture, didn't appear to have a care in the world. Now she had disappeared off the face of the earth, and her parents had aged 10 years in six months. B.A. picked up his suitcase and pulled out the bag Mrs. Rhode had packed Jean's clothes and teddy bear in. For an instant, a flashback of Vietnam went through his mind and he dropped the bag on the bed. A sudden thought of Jean being returned to her parents in a rubber body bag, like several of their comrades in the war…he shook the thought from his mind, he was determined to bring this girl back to her parents alive, no matter what it took.


	3. Chapter 3

They managed to get through the night without somebody trying to kill them; and, though they knew they wouldn't receive any word from Brutus until 11 that morning, they were relieved to find that none of them had received any more envelopes stuffed under their doors. Early that morning B.A. left the hotel to make sure nothing had happened to his van during the night, and the others followed him, deciding they'd better make sure Brutus never had a chance to ambush any one of them. They went around to the alley two blocks behind the hotel where they'd left it to avoid drawing any attention to themselves and found it was still there and B.A. inspected it to make sure nothing was missing or had been tampered with.

"If nothing else," Face told the others, "I checked the radio stations and the news channels, and apparently nothing else happened last night when we weren't looking, at least this guy doesn't set his sights on multiple targets at a time."

"That's a minor consolation," Hannibal replied, "No doubt with the fire power he's using he could take out a dozen people at a time. Well, B.A., what's the verdict?"

"Nothing wrong here," he concluded as he slammed the hood down.

"Great, let's get back to the hotel," Face said. Even though they were supposed to get their next message from Brutus in the lobby, Face was suddenly a bit apprehensive about being out in the wide open; especially with a bunch of high rise buildings in the surrounding area that a trained assassin could be peering out of any one of a thousand windows just waiting to shoot them.

The city was starting to come to life and the streets were full of traffic and the sidewalks were full of pedestrians heading every which way. Some kid on roller skates came upon Murdock and hit him as he went by, screaming, 'tag, you're it!' and did it with enough force that Murdock spun around like a top and fell down. He rolled around trying to get up but didn't get anywhere; Face grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet as Murdock said, "Which way did he go, Face? Which way did he go? I'll pulverize him, I'll…"

"Shut up, fool," B.A. told him, "You always doing something crazy."

"Somebody get the number of that driver," Murdock said, "There's _laws_ against driving on the sidewalk you know."

They returned to the hotel and stayed in the lobby and waited for 11 o' clock to arrive. During that time, Murdock folded pieces of the hotel's stationary into airplanes and guided them through the air as he supplied the sound effects for the various aircrafts. B.A. looked at him and rolled his eyes but didn't say anything; Face watched the clock on the wall and Hannibal watched the hotel's revolving door.

At 11 exactly, they saw a young blonde woman coming in with an envelope in her hand; it didn't take long for them to realize that this was by no means Jean Rhodes, and while they all had agreed to take Brutus' warning with much gravity and not try to interfere, they couldn't help but wonder who she was and how she was involved in this whole mess.

The woman came up to the four of them and held the envelope out to Hannibal and said only, "I was told to give this to you."

Hannibal bit down on his cigar and didn't take his eyes off of her as he reached out and took the envelope, "Thank you."

The woman turned and headed back out the revolving door and Hannibal tore the seal on the envelope and took out another letter.

"What's it say?" Murdock asked.

"It says," Hannibal answered as he read it, "You're getting closer but still not at the finish line. All charades come to an end once and for all, tomorrow night at 11 o' clock in the alley on Rotgut Street."

"Uh oh," Face suddenly sounded sick as he told Hannibal, "That's the next spot on the map. That's where the next murder's supposed to occur."

"We might've guessed as much," Hannibal told him, "No matter, he wants us to meet, we'll be there waiting for him."

* * *

><p>"This guy Brutus must be a weatherman," Hannibal said as he held his arm over his eyes to see through the pouring down rain, "How does he always know to get us out in the middle of an abandoned alley during a rainstorm?"<p>

He climbed into the van alongside the others and tried to see out into the night; but all was pitch black and they didn't turn on their headlights incase it would draw in any unwanted attention.

"What time is it?" Face asked.

"It's," Murdock looked at his bare wrist, "10:47."

"He's right," Hannibal confirmed as he checked his own watch.

"I hope this guy shows up this time," Face said, "And I hope we find Jean Rhodes, _alive_. Missing for six months though, the odds aren't good of that, are they?"

"In that much time, anything's possible," Hannibal said.

"One thing I noticed," Face said, "In all the notes we've gotten from Brutus, he never says anything about her. That can't be a good sign."

They didn't know what they would be facing when Brutus showed up but they were taking no chances; they had the van stocked with machine guns and hundreds of rounds of ammo, and all within easy reach from where they sat. If Face turned out to be right and this was the spot where Brutus planned to commit his next murder, they weren't going to give him the satisfaction of an easy job well done; where his other victims had failed, they were going to fight back and be the ones to bury him.

* * *

><p>11 o' clock came and nobody showed up, then it was midnight, then 1 o' clock in the morning; the storm continued and the rain beat down on the van like hailstones but nobody ever came to the alley. At sometime during the night the four men had fallen asleep, and the next morning they were suddenly and rudely awakened by somebody banging on the window. Hannibal sat up and saw that there was a young Chinese woman with long black hair, wearing a dark blue dress, pounding on the window. He opened the window and said, "Yeah?"<p>

"You no park here," she said in broken English and pointed to the entrance, "Move the van."

"What?" he asked.

"Tow-way zone, you no park here."

"Tow-away zone?" B.A. repeated, "There weren't any signs when we came in last night."

"Yes," the woman said, "Over there, move van."

"Where's this sign?" Hannibal asked as he opened the door, "Show me."

"This way," the girl said.

They followed her to the end of the alley and saw the sign that clearly said: NO PARKING, TOW AWAY ZONE.

"You see tow-way zone, you move the truck, have nice day," the girl said as she turned and walked away.

"That sign wasn't there last night," B.A. told Hannibal.

Hannibal felt like he'd suddenly walked into quicksand, "Wait a minute…" Suddenly something about this whole mess was starting to seem a little too familiar.

They heard someone come up from behind and all turned to see that the Chinese girl had quickly removed her black wig, blue dress, false teeth and makeup and was now wearing a white T-shirt, ratty blue overalls, black boots a size too large, and had short red hair and a smile of crooked teeth as she came up to Hannibal and said, "Asking someone to wait a minute, that's not right, that's a 50 yard penalty and you go back to the start. Do not pass go, do not collect $200."

Murdock's eyes bugged out as he pointed at her and said, "You're the Saint!"

She slightly nodded and replied, "Not for quite a while but you're correct."

"Jean Rhodes," Face couldn't believe it. She looked slightly different from the picture her parents had given her; she'd lost some weight and looked like she hadn't bathed in a few days, but she certainly didn't look the worse for wear.

"And you're the infamous A-Team that everybody talks so much about," she said.

"Well that's half the job done," Hannibal said as he reached over and grabbed her by the arm, "Now, Miss Rhodes if you'll just come this way…"

"Get your hand off me you dirty old man," she said as she pulled away, her demeanor suddenly changed from humorous to deadly serious, "I don't know where you've been."

"Miss Rhodes, you don't understand, your parents hired us to bring you back to them."

"I had figured as much, Smith…I also know how you guys work. Words gets around in the underground," Jean glared at him as she explained, "My parents are nice folks but I happen to know they can't afford your rates, so you better take the money back to them and you offer them your sincerest apologies but tell them you couldn't find me."

"Well now we couldn't do that," Hannibal told her, "Because we already have."

She shook her head, "You didn't find me, Smith, I found you, and you better get out of here, and fast if you know what's good for you."

"What's good for _us_?" Face repeated.

"I wouldn't worry about our welfare," Hannibal told her, "We've been in this business a long time. If it's Brutus you're trying to hide from, we'll fix his wagon and send him back to the pioneering days."

"What do you know about Brutus?" she asked them.

"We know he's killed a lot of people," Face said.

She nodded slightly and only said, "You have no idea."

"Did he kidnap you?" Face asked.

"Not exactly," she said.

"But you know where he is," B.A. said.

She nodded.

"Where?" Hannibal asked.

She pointed up the street and said with a nod of her head, "Follow me."

* * *

><p>They walked behind her and saw where she was leading them to; a dead end part of town where half the houses were black and in ruins from fires long since past, and the rest were all abandoned and looked ready for the wrecker's ball. It was obvious nobody lived on this block, and it was a safe bet traffic very rarely ever came through here. Jean walked them up the street to a house in the middle and said, "In here."<p>

"Brutus lives here?" Hannibal asked as he looked at the shabby two-story house with loose boards and broken windows.

Jean turned around and looked at him as she emphasized, "Nobody's _lived_ here for years, come on."

They went around to the back where she showed them her way of entry, climbing up on an old crate and climbing in through a broken window.

"Must be for people who don't know the secret password," Murdock said.

"Shut up fool," B.A. told him, "And get climbing."

One by one they all slipped in through the window and found themselves in the house's kitchen; all except B.A. who kicked in the petrified kitchen door.

"This place is a mess," B.A. said as he took in how decayed the house's interior was. The furniture was falling apart and half covered in dust and cobwebs. Face hit the light switch on the wall and found there wasn't electricity, but for some reason the water was still turned on as the faucet still worked.

Their attention was drawn to the wall behind them, which had been decorated with a dark blue SEAL trident that was about as big as the kitchen table.

"That's his mark," Face said, and to Jean he asked, "Did he kill someone in this house?"

Jean shook her head, "No."

"Is he here?" Hannibal asked.

Jean signaled for them to be quiet and follow her, she led them through the dining room and they saw it and the living room were in about the same shape the kitchen was. On the way through, Face noticed a few ratty sheets spread over the couch like somebody had been sleeping there recently. Jean stopped in the front hall at the foot of the stairs and pointed to the next floor.

"Up there," she whispered.

Hannibal and Face went up first and had Murdock stay between the first and second floors, and B.A. stayed by Jean at the foot of the stairs to make sure nothing happened to her.

Face followed behind Hannibal and held his breath with every step he took as the stairs creaked and he feared they'd give way at any time. He couldn't believe that this house was even still standing, though he hoped it continued to stand so long as they were in it. They made it to the second floor and looked around but didn't see anyone.

"You think he's here?" Face asked.

Hannibal saw all the rooms on the second floor had their doors open except the one at the far left, he pointed to it and said, "We'll check there first."

They stopped at the door and listened; they didn't hear anything and Face grabbed the knob and turned it and in one swift move, threw the door open.

Downstairs, B.A. and Murdock heard a loud BOOM from upstairs and a shot rang out, and Murdock charged up the stairs to see what had happened; Jean broke away from B.A., and tried to get away.

"Oh no you don't," he said as he nabbed her, his hand far quicker than the human eye.

Jean spun on her heel and said, "Get off of me you walking building!" and kicked him where it hurt. B.A. fell back against the wall and let out a groan; Jean ran for the door but B.A. grabbed her by the sleeve of her shirt and jerked her back, even the oldest assault in the book couldn't keep him down for the count.

* * *

><p>"Are you guys okay?" Murdock asked as he ran into the room and found his two comrades on the floor, "What happened?"<p>

"Oh nothing, Murdock," Hannibal cynically replied, "Just another little explosion is all."

"When the door opened," Face explained, "It sprang a trip wire, and when it came loose, the sudden tight pressure snapped off the latch on that box over on the table that the bomb was in."

"Once again little more than just a flash and smoke," Hannibal said as he got up, "Except when it went off, another wire was sprung, causing the shotgun over on that wall to go off, aimed straight at us."

Murdock looked and saw the gun mounted on the wall, smoke still blowing out the barrel.

"Fortunately it missed us," Face added as they left the room.

Hannibal shook his head and said, "Brutus isn't here." All the same, they followed the hallway that led to the back of the house and found it led to a second set of stairs and they went down them and found themselves in a room behind the kitchen. There weren't any windows and without the lights working, it was too dark to see much of anything, but Murdock was able to make out a pair of roller skates that had been tossed in a box of old clothes and it hit him, "She was the one that knocked me down yesterday!"

"Well she certainly knows how to keep tabs on people," Face commented.

They walked out the door and back into the kitchen and didn't see B.A. or Jean anywhere.

"Where'd they go?" Face asked.

"Right here," they heard B.A. say.

They saw B.A. enter the room carrying Jean in front of him, her feet hoisted inches off the ground and he held onto her by the straps of her overalls.

"Very funny, Smith," she said dryly.

"She tried to run out when the bomb went off," B.A. explained.

Hannibal nodded and said, "Put her down, B.A., I don't think she'll try it again."

B.A. didn't seem so sure but all the same he put her on the ground and let go of her.

"You knew Brutus wasn't here," Hannibal said as he hovered over her, "Why did you bring us here?"

"I told you to go back and forget you ever saw me, but you didn't listen," she said, "You fools, you're endangering yourselves even more the longer you stay near me."

"That's okay, we're used to it," he nonchalantly said, "Now what is going on? Where is Brutus?"

"You don't get it, do you, Smith?" she asked, then pointed at herself and said, "I _am_ Brutus."


	4. Chapter 4

Hannibal prided himself on being a man who couldn't be surprised by much and reacted to very little. Still he felt like he'd been knocked for a loop at this little revelation.

"You're Brutus?" he repeated.

"That's right," Jean nodded, "I'm the one who killed all those people."

B.A. let out a single, humorless laugh and said, "I don't believe it."

"Well you better believe it, King Kong," Jean told him, "I did it."

"You don't really expect us to believe that, do you, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked, "The way those people died…"

"They were blown to bits by machine gunfire, most of them were completely beyond recognition due to their faces being obliterated by the bullets, as well as their dental records. At every crime scene there was a trident and eagle on the wall, the same SEAL trident that's in on the kitchen wall, which I put there when I moved into this shack two weeks ago. Yes, Mr. Smith, it was little old me, I killed all those people and I don't regret it. But you can't turn me in to the police because you're wanted yourselves. So I would suggest you go back the way you came, refund the money and tell my parents you are very sorry but you couldn't find me, the trail was too cold after six months without a trace."

"I see," Hannibal said as he took out a cigar and put it in his mouth, "B.A., would you mind?"

B.A. grabbed Jean by the neck of her shirt, not applying any pressure but letting her know the threat was there. She didn't move as Face and Murdock patted her down and checked her pockets and came up empty for any weapons.

"She's clean, Hannibal," Murdock said.

"Well you don't think I'm dumb enough to carry a gun in broad daylight, do you?" she asked, "When I'm playing the civilian card. You will note all the Brutus murders occurred at night."

"In dark alleys," Hannibal said, "Just like the ones you sent us to, was there a particular reason for that?"

"It was a fitting end for those people," Jean told him spitefully.

"And just what kind of people were they?" he wanted to know.

Jean shook her head and said, "Just get out of here, Smith, all of you, go away and leave-me-alone!"

"Believe me I wish it was that simple," he replied, "Unfortunately we can't. We were hired for the precise reason of finding you and bringing you back to your parents."

"Well I'm not going," Jean said, "Don't think this is my idea of a good time, Smith, but I'm not going back. I can't go back. Not yet."

"Why not?" Face asked.

She shook her head, "It's a long story."

"That's fine," Hannibal said, "Your parents hired us for the long haul, so I'd advise you to start talking. You're right, we can't turn you in to the police, but we're not leaving either until we get some answers."

She looked around at them all and gave in, "Alright, alright, I'll tell you…but first thing's first, my parents paid you a retainer, right?"

"Yes."

"How much?" she asked, "$10,000, $20,000?"

"$5,000 up front," he remarked.

"Fine then," Jean said, "You can pay for the lunch."

* * *

><p>While they waited for Face to get back with the food, Murdock picked up a broom and started sideswiping the cobwebs on the kitchen table like they were hockey pucks, then he focused on an invisible pest on the table and started shoving the broom at it, barking, "Back! Back! Back I say!" He turned to the other side of the table and added, "And you!" He swung the broom up over his head and slammed it on the table, "Take that!"<p>

Jean turned to Hannibal and B.A. and said, "Let me see if I got this right, _this_ guy is your pilot?"

"Don't ask," B.A. said.

Jean went up behind Murdock and asked him, "How'd you ever get a license?"

Murdock turned around and looked at her confused and said, "What license? I don't have them, my dog does."

"Uh huh," Jean said, "What kind of plane do you fly?"

"A Waco."

She nodded, "Makes perfect sense."

"How long did you say you've been staying in this house?" Murdock asked.

"A couple of weeks."

"Where were you before that?" Hannibal asked.

"Some of the other houses in the area," she explained as she looked out the kitchen window, "Nobody's lived here for years. Everybody cleared out when the fire broke out, and they haven't bothered to do anything with this part of the town since. Ain't gonna be anyone looking for me here."

"I'd say that's a safe bet," Hannibal said, "A normal person wouldn't look for _any_ living thing here."

"That's the idea," she replied.

"You know, something I've been trying to figure out," he told her as he crowded in on her, "You seem like a nice kid, so maybe you could explain how you go from being Joan of Arc to being John Rambo?"

She glared at him and said, "It's a long story."

"Well?" he asked.

It was at that moment they heard the front door open as Face returned with sandwiches and cokes from a diner in town.

"Were you followed?" Jean asked as she took the bags from him.

"Followed by _who_?" Face wanted to know, "Or maybe I should be asking what. I don't have any idea what's going on around here."

"Yes," Hannibal agreed, "I think it's time you started to explain what this whole thing is about."

"Like I said," Jean said, "It's a long story."

"That's fine, we're not charging by the hour," Hannibal told her.

"Alright," she said in a huff, and pointed to the table, "Everybody sit down, this is going to take a while."

* * *

><p>"It was a suicide mission, really," Jean started, "If I messed up anywhere along the way, I'd get killed, and if I actually managed to last through the training, I'd have a big red bulls eye on my back, 'soldier', and next time we went to war I'd be the first one they'd throw in the minefield. When I went to enlist I had <em>no<em> intention of finishing the training."

"What did you think you were going to do?" Face asked.

"I figured I'd get thrown out before the training period was up," she said.

"Why did you tell your parents you were entering the Navy SEALs?" he asked.

She inhaled and looked like having her teeth drilled without Novocain would be easier than this. "I had to tell them something, and I said SEALs because I knew they could never track me through it if they didn't hear from me, and I knew that they wouldn't ask any questions about it until it was too late."

"Yeah, but why?" Murdock asked, "Why? I mean what's this whole thing about?"

"See that's the long story," Jean explained, "I spent six weeks in basic training…all this talk about _values_: loyalty, duty, honor, integrity," she summed it up by blowing a razzberry.

"Sounds like you was there alright," Murdock said.

"I'm gonna tell you, when I was in high school, the army people came to the school, the…recruiters? Whatever you want to call them, they come in, talk to all the guys, give them the sales pitch, 'you serve the country, you see the world, you get training you won't get in college', whatever…and they manage to get their hooks in a lot of them. Well…the years go by, and we notice that a lot of the guys that were in our school, who went off to join the army…they never come back, we never hear from them again and nobody knows where they are. It turns out that a large amount of the guys we knew, are broken up into two groups, the AWOL cases, who disappear during the night, and then the ones who don't make it through the training and are kicked out…but in both cases, neither comes back and is never to be seen or heard from again."

"Well," Face cleared his throat, "That's certainly taking defeat to a new level of severity isn't it?"

"Somebody had to get in and find out what was going on," Jean said, "So I decided it was going to be me…I mean I…I'd never had any plans for the future, everybody always said I was flighty…so I join the army, that's something to be proud of, and if I die there, it's my life it's not like anybody's going to care. And we go out to the place where they're gonna train us…and I find out the SEALs are also being trained within the same vicinity…and that was where I encountered the other Jean Rhodes…imagine my surprise to find somebody with my name actually _was_ in the SEALs."

"Yes, we heard about him," Hannibal said, "It seems Jean's been AWOL for the last few months."

Jean shook her head, "He's not AWOL, Mr. Smith, he's dead."

"What?"

That caused a stir with the four commandos and there was no doubt now that she had their full attention.

"Yeah," she said, "Him and several others, all executed, and put in a massive grave at the training site, like the Jews during the Holocaust."

"By who?" Face asked.

"The commanding officers," she said, "Or whatever you call the morons in charge there. I know, I was there that night, I saw it. Jean and I had met and we got along pretty well. I've always been an elusive person, I had gotten pretty good at slipping out unnoticed after lights out, so one night I decided I'd sneak over and visit with Jean for a while. I got there just in time to see he and a dozen other SEALs in training, get their brains blown out by their captains."

Nobody had said anything and the silence when Jean finished talking was so great they could've heard a pin drop. Hannibal looked like he'd been knocked for a loop, Face and Murdock looked dazed by this revelation, and B.A. looked a shade paler. Jean didn't notice though and she continued talking, "I didn't know what was going on, I just got out of there, and I just kept running all night, got as far away from that damned training base as I could. By morning I was back in city limits…I threw away my clothes and hid, like a coward, became a civilian again. I spent a week hiding out, making sure they couldn't find me. Naturally I didn't go home, that'd be the first place they'd look for me. They had to know I saw that night, because I was the only person not accounted for among the living or the dead."

"So what've you been doing since?" Face finally asked.

She glared at him through one eye as she answered, "Evening the score, life for a life and all that. Once I was out of there, I was able to find out what had happened, though it took a while to get the whole story."

"Well what was it?" B.A. wanted to know.

Jean looked down at the table for a second before she continued, "I've heard…stories through the underground, about the A-Team…wanted for robbing a bank in Hanoi of a million dollars, is that right?"

"We didn't rob that bank," Hannibal corrected her, "It was a military operation ordered by General Morrison, who died before he could clear us on that charge."

Jean broke out in a flutter of short bitter laughs as she leaned back in her chair and said, "This is why I never liked the military much…when _they_ say to do something, it's alright…during wartimes they say kill somebody of course it's alright, they say rob a bank, that's fine…now if they said rape someone, would that not be a crime either?" She didn't give them a chance to answer, she got back to what she had started to say, "Anyway, being from that time…you recall when soldiers' coffins were used to smuggle drugs into the country when their bodies were sent home?"

"Yeah," B.A. answered, "And as I recall there were a few times when their bodies were used for smuggling the drugs in as well."

"Well," Jean told them, "What's going on is not quite so drastic but nonetheless tragic. When I was at the training base, I found out there's a whole new trafficking mess operating within the military: drugs, weapons _and_ humans. It turns out what happens is for every 20 guys or so that they bring from our area, our schools…the sergeants in charge will pick our two or three of them who they think have the potential."

"Potential for what?" Hannibal asked.

"They're sold to the drug cartels in Colombia, or Mexico, whoever's paying the highest price, of course they don't pay much since most of their recruits are just snatched up from the border for free, but it's an investment for good service," Jean explained, "You know these guys have had _some_ military training, they're not completed yet, so they know all the quick ways to kill someone but they're not immune to the training yet…they can be broken, in body and mind and spirit most of all…and when they're sold to the cartel leaders they're subjected to a few weeks of the most excruciating brainwashing imaginable so that they only know their lives as working for the cartel, buying and selling drugs and driving them over the lines, to whoever's in the market, supplying decommissioned military firearms that can't be traced back to their sources to the cartel leaders for a good price, and killing anybody who gets in the way."

"And that's what happened to the other Jean Rhodes?" Hannibal asked.

"Sort of…when these guys are sold off they're written up as either being AWOL, or that they were discharged because they couldn't complete training for whatever reason…that way the military isn't responsible for half of them, and the other half they put on a show of trying to find those recruits and find out why they bailed. And it's not just the army, it goes to other areas of the military too, including the SEALs."

Face took particular notice of this comment and added on his own part, "At the time of Jean Rhodes' AWOL notice, he was the only one."

"I know, everyone else was listed as being discharged for failure to meet their standards during training," Jean said, "Or however they write it up, it all means the same thing…yeah see they had Jean pegged as a good potential for the cartels, him and a few others, but he and the others found out about it and they refused, and for that they had to die. The sergeants simply couldn't have anybody live to talk about what was _really_ going on there."

"But they have _you_ listed as discharged," Face reminded her.

"Of course they do, they couldn't have _me_ AWOL, because if I happen to die publicly, questions are going to be asked and might go back around to the sergeants, and that might ruin their whole plan," Jean told him.

"And that's where you come in as the public avenger," Hannibal guessed.

"They have to know that I'm the one responsible," she said, "I'm the only one who can tell what's gone on. But I didn't want to make it easy for them to figure it out. Brutus was the name of Caesar's assassin; it seemed like a good cover."

"But you were enlisted for the army," Face said, "Brutus' calling card has been the SEAL insignia."

"So all those who are targeted will know why this is happening, justice, and revenge for Jean and all those others who were shot down that night, and for all the others we won't know about," Jean told him. "It took me a while but I found out who all was involved in it; a lot of them were members of the military, some of them were retired from it by that time, and then there were outsiders who played an equal part. They killed Jean, so, they had to die to pay the debt. After the first few killings, the word started getting around about the A-Team, soldiers for hire who will find missing people and all that sort…so I started to think my parents might hire you when I never returned home. So as Brutus I had to determine a pattern in the killings that could be followed; but not by just anybody, it had to be something the cops couldn't catch on to what it was."

"And that's why when the dots are connected you get Orion minus his belt, right?" Face said.

She nodded, "I figured if you guys were smart you'd figure it out. So I started being on the lookout for four guys paying any extra attention to the Brutus murders."

"Well that explains most of it," Hannibal said, "But it still doesn't answer the question of why six months later, you haven't returned to your parents when you're only a couple of miles from home."

Jean shook her head, "It's not over yet, Smith. They're still out there. I didn't kill these guys all at once even though that would've been easier, and I started from the bottom up. So at first, maybe they wouldn't realize there was a price on their heads…but bit by bit I work my way up the totem pole, and they have to be getting really nervous by now."

"And these last two people are?" he asked.

"One of them is David Grant, he's a captain in the army, or rather he was, guess he got too old to actually be on the front lines," she said, "He oversees a lot of these operations, and the number one candidate is Jack Saunders, he was the drill sergeant who personally shot Jean that night. His death I've saved for the last and it's going to be the most painful of them all."

Hannibal had remained perfectly still while she was talking, now he was reaching into his pocket for another cigar. "I can appreciate what you've been through, Miss Rhodes, but you don't really think we're going to stand by and let you kill these people, do you?"

"The way I see it, you don't have any choice," she retorted, "I've said it before, you can't turn me in for what I've done…and I also told you they _have_ to know it's me, meaning if I walk away before these two are pushing up daisies, it won't just be me they come after, it'll be my parents, and I've stayed gone these four months for that very reason, to protect them. Once these last two people die, the ring will be broken and we should be safe, but not until then; up to this point it was largely child's play but now it's the top dogs answering for their crimes, and they won't think any more of killing me than they did those other recruits."

"Okay," Hannibal said as he took his cigar out of his mouth for a minute, "Say we agree to help you put these guys out of commission. Where are they?"

Jean looked at him like she didn't believe him; she looked down at the table as she considered answering him. "I got a tip the other day, Grant's heading out to a place called Queensworth."

Hannibal tapped Murdock on the shoulder and said, "What town is _this_ again?"

"Rotgut."

"Rotgut, New York, that figures, and Queensworth is how far away from here?" he asked.

"Not here, in Ohio," she answered, "And Saunders is heading out to Illinois. I can't prove it but I think they're traveling different ways to meet up at a certain point later on, and this way they don't draw any attention to themselves. Naturally I go after Grant first."

"That's about 500 miles," Hannibal said.

"I ain't flying, Hannibal," B.A. told him.

"Who said anything about flying?" he asked.

"Any time you start figuring distance, you bring in this crazy fool to fly us out there," B.A. pointed to Murdock.

"Nobody said a word about flying," Hannibal turned to Face, "Did I say anything about flying?"

"No, not a word," Face replied.

B.A. looked from one of them to the other and growled, "You ain't pulling anything with me this time."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Hannibal said with the same grin Face had described as a set of teeth playing with his mind. "We're just figuring time, 500 miles is about a seven hour drive."

"I can get us there in four hours," B.A. replied.

"Would you look at this, Face?" Hannibal said as he picked up his sandwich, "We were so focused on Miss Rhodes' story, we haven't even eaten yet." Still with the knowing smirk on his face he said, "Eat your sandwich, B.A."

"What'd you have this fool put in it?" B.A. wanted to know.

"Nothing," Hannibal insisted, "It's a simple, non-threatening, sandwich, eat up."

"I don't trust you," B.A. said.

"Why?" Jean asked, "What is it?"

"Every time we gotta fly, these crazy fools put something in the food to knock me out," B.A. explained.

"We do not," Hannibal replied, "A lot of the meals have turkey in them, turkey makes you fall asleep."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jean picked up her plate and swapped hers with B.A.'s, "Here, take mine."

"No I don't trust that either," he said, "They've pulled that stunt before too, so when they're switched I _still_ get the knock-out lunch."

"Fine," Jean said and swapped her plate with Murdock's, then she reached over, grabbed B.A.'s plate and swapped his with Face's, "Ought to be safe now."

"Well now that that's settled," Hannibal commented as he picked up his sandwich and bit into it.

"What about that woman who met us in the hotel lobby?" Face asked, "What's her part in this?"

Jean shook her head, "Ain't one, I just asked her to deliver an envelope to my friends who were at the hotel that day and would be waiting for the message in the lobby, I never saw her before in my life, and probably won't again."

"And for four months," Hannibal said, "You spend your days bunking with the cockroaches?"

"Don't get the wrong idea, Smith, don't think I've enjoyed living like this," Jean told him, "Four months of breaking into condemned houses, inhaling dust and dirt, no clean clothes, no electricity, no water, busted windows, 40 degree nights, never seeing anyone, never talking to anyone, when I could be home with my family."

"How did you get the guns?" Face asked.

"Probably the same way you get yours," she said, "Underground's a big business."

"Yeah, but not cheap," Murdock said.

"That's why everybody _goes_ into the drug trafficking business, big money…that's what these guys killed for, what do you think happened to the tens of thousands of dollars they were carrying at the time they bit it? That's why nobody's been able to tie drugs to their deaths or even their lives, you get found with $50 in your wallet, nobody will ask questions, but an envelope with $25,000, that's going to raise more than eyebrows," Jean explained.

"And what happened to all that money?" Hannibal asked, "I'd think with a stash like that you could afford to hole up in a nicer place than this."

"It's gone," she answered, "Guns, ammo, when you're not doing legal business they can make the price whatever they want, they know you don't have an option."

"And you have to eat," Face added.

"That's right, and those choices are extremely limited too when you don't have a refrigerator or place to cook. Believe me, there's nothing I'd like better to do than just go home, but that can't happen until these guys are dead. Of course I realize that this ring goes much farther than just the branch we came from; I have no delusions about turning the whole drug operation on its ear, but this is personal, and it's also business, and I intend to see it finished."

"This is just my personal opinion of course, but you don't sound flighty to me," Hannibal told her with his trademark smile.

She weakly smiled in response and said, "I've had a crash course in growing up. Death has a tendency to do that to people. I've never complained about the way my life's turned out due to these circumstances, I've never asked 'why me?'. Four months I've been running this operation single handedly, I've accepted it as being my fate."

She laughed dryly and added, "I don't know if any of you guys had any religious upbringing, any beliefs about God, Heaven, Hell...I do. That makes it a conflict of interest: the Bible says 'thou shalt not kill', but I have, and I'm well aware of the fact that repentance is needed for redemption, and where there is no repentance there will be no redemption. The problem is you can't have repentance without remorse for your actions and I have none and also no intention to stop it now. So if I die, I'm damned and I know it, but all the knowing in the world can't change it or what I do, I have to do this, even though I know what it'll mean when I stand before God Almighty and answer for my crimes and sins. There'll be no excuses, and I don't expect Him to show any mercy because one murder isn't any different from another. 'Vengeance is mine', says the Lord, the problem is the world is full of people trying to do the Lord's work, myself included. But I couldn't live with myself if I let these murderous scumbags get away with what they've done and what they're still doing. Jean was a good man, he didn't deserve to be gunned down like a dog, and buried under the spot where the recruits are going to be doing their morning pushups. And I'm sure God will make them answer for that but the problem is humans don't have the same kind of patience and we insist on seeing to such problems ourselves, immediately...for some of us, this world is the only time we'll ever see justice. And then there's the matter of justice for the dead...just because they're out of this world doesn't mean the crimes committed against them should be rewarded or forgotten."

There was a long silence after that, nobody said anything or even knew what _to_ say. Finally, she took it upon herself to be the first to say something. "In the grand scheme of things I have no doubt when you four's time comes, there'll be mercy shown, Lord yes. That's the difference in us, Smith, you don't kill people, I do, and I'll be honest, I haven't completely hated it either. I've had to adapt very quickly to a new way of life, everything that I did know fell away, and in order to stay alive, I've had to stay two steps ahead of everyone else."

"There's just one thing I don't get," Face told her, "That night you had us go to the bar, exactly _how_ did you plant that bomb and the bottle of soda before we got there, and possibly know that's where we'd be?"

"I don't know," she replied, "I guess the same way I was able to slip those sleeping pills into Smith's sandwich before he got it."

"What!" Hannibal said, and peeled open what was left of his sandwich to see two crushed up pills between the bread and the meat. His eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out face down in his lunch. Murdock took the cigar out of his hand and tossed it into the sink.

Face was half out of his chair at the sight of the leader unconscious and he asked Jean, "How did you know to do that?"

"I didn't," she said, "But this way he can't give an order to take me back to my parents, and he's the leader, right? The man with a plan."

"And that also means we ain't flying," B.A. said and turned to Murdock, "Right, fool?"

"Who said anything about flying?" Murdock asked, feigning ignorance.

"Alright," Jean said, "If you guys are serious about helping me, then we better get moving and fast, like he said, 7 hours to get there. But remember what I said, that dope money is gone, so I can't afford to pay your rates either, meaning if you do go through with this it's going to be a largely on-the-house case."

"That's alright," B.A. said, "The case just got a big discount."

B.A. laughed as he grabbed hold of Hannibal and hoisted him up over his shoulder and hauled him out to the van.

"Get a taste of your own medicine for once, Hannibal," he chuckled as he shut the door, "This is good."

Jean dug a couple of duffel bags out of their hiding places in some of the more decrepit furniture and gave them to Face and Murdock to carry out to the van; they were heavy and without looking inside the two could guess that these were the guns she used to kill those men.

"You do realize the position you're putting yourself in by trusting us with these, don't you?" Face asked.

"I do," she replied, "I also know if you tried anything with what's in those bags, I'd kill you with what's in the other one." She pulled a third duffel bag out of an overhead panel above the dining room's closet, and pulled an army jacket off the back of a chair.

"Where'd you get that from?" Face asked her.

She glanced down at it and answered, "From someone who doesn't need it anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

"I think we missed the proper introductions back at the house," Face told Jean when they were on the road, "I'm Face, that's Murdock, you know Hannibal of course, and that's B.A."

"And I'm the Saint," she replied, looking ahead to B.A. she asked, "What does B.A. stand for?"

"Bad attitude," Murdock answered.

Jean looked at him and said, "I wasn't talking to you." She climbed up to look over the top of the front seat and looked down at B.A. and asked him, "You really think we can make it to Queensworth in 4 hours?"

"We'll be there before the night, that's for sure," he said.

Jean got back in her seat and reached over to poke Face on the arm and asked him, "So what happened to the million dollars you guys took? I wouldn't think with that kind of money you guys would have to be renting out your services to the poor people."

"The bank in Hanoi recovered their money 10 years ago after we were arrested," Face said.

"So why're they still chasing you then?" she asked.

"Because Colonel Lynch holds a grudge like it's a suitcase," Murdock answered, "Now, regarding other matters, how long are those pills supposed to keep our boss asleep for?"

"Oh," Jean leaned forward and got a look at the speedometer, "We should be in Ohio before he wakes up at the rate this guy drives."

B.A. was still grinning from ear to ear and laughing as he looked over and saw Hannibal asleep in the passenger seat; for once the tables turned on him.

* * *

><p>The four people had made small conversation among themselves during the drive and just before B.A.'s van reached the Ohio state limits, Jean reached over to the front seat and set Hannibal's wristwatch back three hours.<p>

"Oh boy this is gonna be good," she said.

B.A. was still grinning from ear to ear and hadn't stopped laughing in the four hours they'd been driving. Though his sunny disposition broke for a moment as he looked back at the other passengers and said, "So this is what you fools' always doing with me when I'm knocked out, eh?"

"With all due respect, B.A., it's a lot harder with you," Face said.

"Yeah, cuz you's a lot heavier," Murdock added.

"One more remark out of you, fool, and you're gonna be the hood ornament," B.A. warned him.

Jean elbowed them to be quiet as they saw Hannibal was starting to move. He groaned and slowly came to and looked around as if trying to get his bearings straight.

"What happened?" he asked, still half asleep, "Where are we?"

B.A. chuckled and said, "I guess that jetlag finally caught up with you, eh, Hannibal?"

"Huh?" Hannibal looked over at him and then out the window and asked, "Where are we?"

"We're about to go through Toledo," Jean told him, "It's about time you woke up."

Even B.A. fought to keep a straight face as he said, "Yeah Hannibal, you slept through the whole flight."

"What flight?" he asked, suddenly all there.

"Don't you remember?" Face asked, "You said we should fly to Ohio instead of making the long drive so we can get there ahead of Grant. Only took an hour."

"Yeah and what a flight it was," Jean added, "You would've thought Murdock was at the controls, the whole damn jet about went upside down during the middle of the flight."

Hannibal turned around and looked at them quizzically and said, "If we flew to Ohio, how'd we get the van here?"

"It was a Globe Master," Jean answered.

It wasn't Hannibal's usual grin but he finally smiled as he said somewhat dryly, "Ha ha, okay, I can take a joke."

"Good, remember this next time you try knocking me out," B.A. advised him, and added a warning growl at the end.

Hannibal pulled a cigar out of his pocket and asked as he bit down on it, "How long until we reach Queensworth?"

"At the rate this angry mudsucker drives," Murdock said, "About five minutes."

"Shut up, fool," B.A. told him.

Jean elbowed Face and asked him, "What _is_ a mudsucker?"

"I think it's a fish," he answered.

"So where is Grant's destination in this town?" Hannibal asked.

"A hotel on Lexington Street," Jean answered, "The Rococo."

"Sounds expensive," Face said.

"I checked," she said, "It isn't, like so many other things in the world, so terribly misnamed. I've got enough money left to get a room there, or rather," she looked around at the four men, "A couple of rooms."

Hannibal saw the murderous gleam coming from the corner of B.A.'s right eye as he ever so slightly shook his head.

"That won't be necessary," Hannibal told her, "It goes to business expenses."

* * *

><p>"Peck said that you guys had a colonel from Vietnam chasing after you," Jean told Hannibal as they got their bags out of the van, "A colonel Finch?"<p>

"Lynch," Face corrected her, "As in what he'd probably love to do with us."

"Right," Jean said, and addressing Hannibal she added, "And you're the guy he always comes after first, right? John 'Hannibal' Smith."

"That's right," he said.

"Well if he comes sniffing around here, he's going to have a lot of trouble finding you this time," Jean said, "I checked ahead on the hotel and rooms are becoming pretty scarce. As it turns out there's a Smith family reunion going on here in a couple of days, so the Rococo Hotel is going to be filled to the brim with Smiths. If Lynch comes here he'll have 500 Smiths to sort through."

Face let out strangled laugh as he spun around on his heel, "What're the odds of that?"

"So when we go in we'll just tell them we're part of the family," Jean said, "What's five more Smiths?"

"Yeah but uh," Murdock gestured to B.A., "How're you going to explain this one?"

B.A. looked down at him and snarled, Murdock quickly inched away from him and over towards the others.

"I thought about that," Jean said, "And I think I have the perfect cover." She pointed to Hannibal, "John," to Face, "Jim," to Murdock, "Joe," to herself, "Jane," and she went over to B.A., grabbed his arm and pointed to him as she said, "Daddy!"

That sudden suggestion took Murdock and Face by surprise and they both broke out laughing, until they saw the look on B.A.'s face and both became quiet as a tomb.

"Gotta admit, there is something to that idea," Hannibal said, though he was known for his persistent straight faced grin in the direst situations, even he was having trouble restraining himself from laughing.

B.A. shook his head and remarked, pointing to Murdock, "No way I'd have any ugly kids like this crazy fool."

"It's worth a try," Jean said.

"I'll go on ahead and get us checked in," Face said, "I think it'd be easier if they didn't see us all at once."

"I'll go with you," Murdock said.

"And I'm going to see what they've got around this place in the way of any equipment we may need in the near future," Hannibal added as he headed around the corner.

That left just B.A. and Jean at the van to unpack everything. She looked at him and said, "Just keep in mind I didn't ask you guys to come here, you're free to walk at any time."

B.A. laughed and replied, "You don't know us very well."

"Obviously not," Jean said, "Though it is to my understanding for being soldiers of fortune, a lot of your work is charity cases, clients who can't pay but still get your services, depending on who they are, what they are, if they're friends…but I don't know you, and I know my parents don't either. So why this case?"

If he had an answer for her he didn't get to it because it was at that moment that Murdock came back to help unpack, and Face wasn't far behind him.

"Did you get the rooms?" Jean asked.

"Yes," he answered, "Two rooms, four double beds."

"That still means somebody has to bunk with someone else," Jean said, "It also means I'm going to be stuck in the same room with one of you numbskulls."

"I know," Face told her, "But like you said, the rooms are running out. I figure we'd kill each other over the rooms later."

"Well, it's a plan," Jean said.

"I also got a glance over the registry and saw that David Grant is not checked in yet," Face added.

"I told you I'd get us here ahead of time," B.A. said.

"Well if Grant's not here yet, then he must be on the way," Jean commented, "I'll just have to keep my eyes peeled for him."

"You keep saying you," Face noted, "You seem to forget you came out here with company."

"I didn't forget," she said, "But I know that you don't kill people, I do, and that's what's going to happen here when Grant arrives, and if you don't like it you can leave now, I don't need your help, I don't need anybody's help to get this done."

"It's no wonder she never would've lasted in the army," Murdock commented.

"Yeah," she sneered, "I'm too independent. Just remember I didn't ask anybody to come out here, you're free to leave at any time."

Face reached over and grabbed her arm to get her attention and said, "Incidentally, _Saint_, do you happen to have a picture of this guy incase _we_ meet him first?"

She snorted, "Yeah, I got a picture."

She opened the duffel bag she was carrying and took out a photograph and handed it to Face. Face was sure something had gone wrong in translation; Jean had said Grant had retired from the military due to his age, but the man in the picture hardly looked a day over 40: tall, big, blonde, mean looking. He definitely looked like he could be a killer, Face couldn't deny that; of course there was no sure way to tell by _looking_ at someone but if ever there was, this guy was it.

He cleared his throat and asked, "Do you have pictures of all your victims?"

She only nodded in response.

"Mind if I see them?" he asked. It wasn't that he was curious to see who all she had killed, he just wanted to make sure she didn't have any pictures of _them_ in there.

* * *

><p>"Well this place is fancier than some places we've had to stay," Face said as they tossed their bags down in one of the rooms and took in how large it was.<p>

"At least when it drops to 35 tonight the heat will be on," Jean said as she collapsed in a chair in the middle of the room, "That'll be a huge relief after all those rat infested hellholes with the busted windows."

Murdock watched as she hoisted her bag onto her lap, opened it up and took out a bottle of pills and swallowed two of them.

"What're those?" he asked.

She looked at him, surprised that he'd even noticed, and defensively she answered, "Vitamins. Ain't any of us in the health we used to be, and doctors are not an option."

Meanwhile, Hannibal had Face and B.A. on the other side of the room and was speaking to them quietly so Jean couldn't pick up on their conversation.

"If Grant _is_ coming here he's probably already got a reservation made, we just have to find out what room he's going to be staying in, and we plant a bug."

"And how're we going to get in?" Face asked, "Through the window? We're up on the fourth floor and he's on the one below us, and we have to lay low as much as possible and not draw attention to ourselves."

On the other end of the room, Jean was saying to Murdock, "Finally in a place with a water heater, I'm going to get a shower and send these clothes down to the laundry, first time in four months I'll have clean clothes. They can practically stand up by themselves." She caught the look on Hannibal's face when he heard that and she asked, "Now what did I say?"

"I know how we get into Grant's room," Hannibal told Face.

* * *

><p>The door to room 203 opened and Hannibal stepped in, in his trademark Asian makeup as he announced, "Hello Mr. Grant, your laundry service, no?" to cover Face coming in alongside him and planting the bug in a lamp and then went to work to tap the room's phone. Hannibal continued, "I turn down bed and put in mint, s'okay?" and when he saw Face was done, he whispered to him in his normal voice, "Better get that pass-key back to the maid before Grant shows up."<p>

"Right," Face said as he headed out of the room.

Hannibal stayed behind and when the room was quiet, he called out, "Can you hear me?"

Of course he couldn't hear the response, but on the floor above in their room, Murdock was able to pick up every word their colonel was saying through the headphones.

"He got it," he said.

"What about the phone?" Jean asked.

"He'll try that next," B.A. said as he checked the second phone they'd installed in their room along with a tape recorder ready to start moving as soon as 203's phone met another party.

Their room's phone rang and Jean answered it and while Hannibal talked with her, B.A. was able to pick it up on their equipment. He took the phone from Jean and said, "Clear as a whistle, Hannibal."

"Good," was his reply, and he hung up.

"Now what happens when the cleaning lady comes in here in the morning?" Jean asked, "Or do you have a plan for that too?"

"Hannibal always has a plan," Murdock said.

"Are they good though?" she asked.

"Not always," B.A. answered, "But we'll deal with that later."

"Uh-huh," Jean said, "Well, I'm going to take a shower," she stopped at the bathroom door and added, "And if anybody so much as cracks the door open, I'm going to brain them with the soap dish."

"Got it," Murdock said.

"Right," B.A. added.

The door opened and Hannibal and Face stepped back in at that time.

"You really think this will work?" Jean asked Hannibal.

"If David Grant checks into that room, we'll be able to know everything that's said between he and anyone else," Hannibal told her.

"Whatever," she said, "I'm going to get cleaned up."

"Oh, Miss Rhodes," Hannibal reached over and picked up a brown paper bag and held it out to her, "Your mother sent along some of your clothes."

Jean put her fist on her hip and glared at him as though he'd said they had worn them.

"Incase we found you," he added.

Without another word between them she grabbed the bag and went into the bathroom. But before she closed the door, Hannibal followed her in and said, "One more thing, would you mind showing me your hands?"

"Why?" Jean asked.

"No particular reason, just curious," he said.

She didn't get it but she held her hands up with the backs facing him. Hannibal grabbed them and turned them over so the palms faced upward. Apparently finding or not finding what he was or wasn't looking for, Hannibal put them down and went back into the main room.

"What was that about?" Face asked.

Hannibal signaled for them to be quiet, and once they could hear the shower running he went over to the others and said, "I don't like the looks of this one, I've got a bad feeling about this kid."

"What about her?"

He looked back to the door as if to make sure she wasn't listening, and he continued, "You remember back in New York when she was recalling what happened the night of the massacre…she described her exit from the base as being 'like a coward', as if she holds herself responsible for the deaths that occurred, instead of the ones that have taken place since. I'm not convinced that she's not a danger to herself, if she really thinks she's responsible, she may try to kill herself. Life for a life, that's what she said; and that would explain why she hasn't gone home, and why she's tried to get us off this case. Until we can be sure that she's not a suicide risk, I think it would be in her best interest to make sure she's not alone. One of us will stay with her at all times, eat with her, drive with her, bathe with her if necessary."

"Now don't get disgusting, Hannibal," B.A. told him.

While they talked, Murdock went over to where Jean had dropped her bag, the one she personally had carried in; the one she wouldn't let anyone else touch, he dropped in the chair and heaved it onto his lap as she had and opened it up and started digging through it. There were a few sets of dirty clothes, a first aid kit, a switchblade, and a couple of pill bottles. He took one out and was reading the label when the others came over to see what he had found.

"This isn't vitamins," he said, popping the cap on it, "These aren't the right pills either."

"What are they?" Face asked.

Murdock squinted as he read the label, "It says Extra Strength Tylenol, but…these pills are too big and too few to be the right dosage for that." He took out one of the white tablets and said, "Hydromorphone, this isn't aspirin, Hannibal, a lot of the guys at the V.A. are on things like this. It's like on a scale of 1-10 for painkillers, these are a 16."

"Hide them," Hannibal told him, "We'll see if she notices they're gone. It wouldn't take much to overdose on those, would it, Murdock?"

He shook his head, "There's enough in this bottle to kill a whole stampede of elephants. Hannibal," he tried to get the colonel's attention as he stood up, "Hannibal…these pills are prescription only, you can't get them from anywhere except a pharmacy."

"And you can't get a prescription without some personal information, which if you're trying to hide out from the world, is not possible," Face said.

"Maybe," Hannibal said as he looked at the bottle, "But if they were legitimately obtained from a pharmacy, they wouldn't be hiding in a Tylenol bottle either. She probably broke into a pharmacy and stole them."

"Right," Murdock said, "But the main reason anybody takes these things is they're in a _world_ of pain. In the V.A. these are used as an alternative to morphine."

"Well she doesn't have any _obvious_ injuries," Face said, "So how're we going to find out why she's taking them?"

"Well I'm sure, if this David Grant takes his time in checking in, five people in two rooms for an extended amount of time, something's bound to happen," Hannibal said, "Murdock, is there any alcohol in the bag?"

Murdock sorted through the rest of the contents and pulled out half a bottle of whiskey.

"For her sake I hope that's for snakebites," he said, "Hide that too."

"This is all just turning into a big game of keep away, isn't it?" Face asked.

Hannibal turned and grinned at him with the same psychologically frustrating set of teeth, "Now you're getting it."

* * *

><p>The door to the bathroom opened and Jean stepped out wearing a set of blue jeans and a Star Wars T-shirt and asked, "Is Grant here yet?"<p>

"Nothing yet," Face answered as he put the headset down.

"Are you sure he's coming here?" Murdock asked.

"He does have a reservation," Hannibal said, "He wouldn't have any _sudden_ reason to believe he shouldn't come here."

"I don't see how he could," Jean said, "Nobody knows who I am, nobody cares _where_ I am…we haven't done anything publicly, I…" she stopped and her eyes widened as she saw something on the floor.

This got the attention of the four commandos and they looked at her and looked around at the room to see what it was, but none of them saw anything that hadn't been there before. Jean's chest rose as she took in a sudden breath and her shoulders pressed up against her neck as she seemed to freeze with terror. Then out of nowhere she started screaming and jumped onto the ottoman and demanded to know, "Who did it? Who did it! Who let that _dog_ in here!"

"What?" Face and Hannibal looked at each other.

"Billy?" Murdock asked, "How'd he get in here?"

"Murdock!" Jean pointed to the floor accusingly, "Is this _your_ dog? Get him out of here! Get him out! I don't like dogs!"

Murdock went over to the vacant spot on the carpet and whistled, "Come on, Billy, come on boy." He grabbed an invisible leash and walked over to the door, "I'll put him in the next room."

Face looked at Hannibal with eyes that couldn't believe what he was seeing and said to their colonel, "Well how do you like that? We've found someone who's tuned in to the same delusions Murdock is!"

B.A. groaned and just shook his head.

All Hannibal had to say in response was, "Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later."

Murdock returned to the room and closed the door behind him. "Billy won't be bothering you anymore, Miss Rhodes."

Jean breathed a sigh of relief as she set foot on the floor again, "He better not, Murdock, or I'll go about fixing the situation myself."

Face tried to maintain a straight face but he choked on a combination laugh and snort.

* * *

><p>That night they went down to the hotel's restaurant for dinner so they could keep an eye out for any visitors, expected or otherwise. It was a fancy room with tall windows and a glass door entrance from the side of the hotel. They got a table for five but seating became a game of musical chairs as Face, Murdock and Jean all started fighting over the same chair; Hannibal and B.A. each grabbed somebody and jerked them away and quickly busted up the fight before they drew attention to themselves.<p>

"What're you doing?" he wanted to know.

"I was sitting here!" both Face and Jean said.

Face glared at her and said, "You ought to know anybody who's been in Vietnam _never_ sits with their back to a door."

"Well I need to sit facing the door incase Grant comes in through here!" she replied.

"Alright, alright, shut up both of you," Hannibal told them, "Everybody get up and grab a chair."

They rearranged the chairs so that they wrapped around the back side of the table so all were facing towards the door. They gave a waiter their orders and throughout the meal kept quiet and nobody said much to anyone else. Even Murdock, the others noticed, was being unusually quiet and very well behaved for being in public. During the meal they kept watch at the entrance and waited for any sign that Grant was arriving, but Jean never let on that anybody had come in worth worrying about.

After dinner they returned to their rooms and Murdock stayed with Jean and kept her occupied in one room while Hannibal told Face and B.A. of his latest plan in the other.

"Of course, if this story about killing the recruits is true, we want these last two guys stopped," he said, "But the key thing here is we have to get the girl back to her parents. That's where you come in, B.A. As of this moment you are officially Jean's bodyguard, if we run into trouble, Face, Murdock and I will go on ahead to meet the threat, it'll be up to you to get her out of here and get her back home, we'll catch up later."

"We'll_ what_?" Face asked.

Hannibal gestured to B.A. and explained, "She can't get away from him, and in a time of crisis if any, we don't need to be scrambling figuring out what everyone else is doing. This way we know the game plan, and we stick to it."

B.A. nodded slightly and said, not sounding too convinced, "Alright, but how long are we going to wait around here to see if this fool Grant is actually coming here?"

"There is a chance that he set up the reservation as a front," Hannibal said, "And is in fact driving on ahead to Illinois to meet up with Saunders, now just what these two plan to do there is anybody's guess…but, we'll give him the benefit of the doubt and stick around for a couple of days before plugging ahead west."

"Hannibal, you realize there's another possibility to this," Face said, "That nobody's coming here, and that she's set us up to kill us."

"Yeah that crossed my mind once the pills wore off," Hannibal replied, "But I don't believe it."

"Neither do I," B.A. added, "I don't care what she says, she's not a killer."

"With all due respect, B.A." Face said as he took a subtle step behind Hannibal, "Her track record would suggest otherwise."

"I'm not talking about that, fool!"

"Well then?"

Before either of them could get another word out, their door opened and Murdock and Jean came in, engaged in a conversation of their own, and for the moment the two comrades had to let it go at that.


	6. Chapter 6

"It was a good thing we were able to get adjoining rooms in this place," Face said to Hannibal when they returned to their rooms that night, "Makes it a lot easier to go back and forth in the night without risking running into somebody out in the hall, or getting half the hotel up."

"Yeah, but I've got to watch the door," Murdock pointed to the one separating their rooms, "Otherwise Billy might get out and come in here again."

"Shut up, fool," B.A. told him, "There ain't no dog."

"B.A. that's no way to talk about Billy," Murdock all but got in his face, "What did that little dog ever do to you?"

"Nothing compared to what I'll do to you."

Murdock felt B.A.'s hands on his throat and for once he broke away and jumped halfway across the room, and wound up seeking refuge behind Jean, because he knew B.A. wouldn't do anything to her just to get through to him.

"Come out from behind there, you crazy fool," B.A. told him.

"Not until you calm down, B.A." Murdock replied, trying to talk some sense into him.

"I'll calm down after I kill you," he said as he took a step closer to Murdock.

Jean took the offensive and she stood on her toes to get in B.A.'s face, though came up a little short, and she said to him, "Oh why don't you shut up!" And suddenly the room had become quiet enough to hear a pin drop; Hannibal and Face looked at the sight before them in shock, _nobody_ ever talked to B.A. that way, and they especially never got away with it. But Jean stood her ground and pointed to Murdock and said, "Ever since I've joined this traveling circus, all this guy's done is try to be helpful and all you do is try to wring his neck, what did he ever do to you?"

"You don't want to know," B.A. replied. But for the moment the fight was over and B.A. backed stepped away from them.

"You're serious," Face said as he came up to Jean, trying to change the subject, "You can actually _see_ Murdock's dog, Billy?"

"I got eyes, don't I?" she replied, "And they work."

"Yeah but Billy's…" Face tried to think how to put it, "I mean, what kind of dog _is_ he?"

She looked surprised, "You don't know?"

Face shook his head.

"Well he's in the next room, go see for yourself," she told him.

"There ain't no dog," B.A. replied.

She and Face turned to him and she said, "Oh no? I know what I saw and that in there is a dog, as sure as I'm standing here."

Face inched over to Hannibal and said, "I just had a scary thought…suppose Murdock's actually the sane one and it's the rest of us that's crazy?"

Hannibal didn't respond and instead he walked over to Jean and asked to see the picture of Grant again and told her that he and B.A. were going to go down to the lobby for a while and keep an eye out incase their guest of honor was arriving later that night, and he made it clear the others were to remain in the room until they got back. On his way out, Hannibal leaned over towards Face and said into his ear, "Remember, whatever you and Murdock do, don't let her out of your sight."

"What was all that you said about B.A. being her bodyguard?" Face whispered, "Why doesn't _he_ stay here with her?"

"Because if there's any trouble that will call for a bodyguard we'll find that out on the ground floor first," Hannibal said, "Plenty of time to get back up here."

"Right." He knew that there was more to Hannibal's mind than he was willing to let on but he didn't say anything so as to avoid arousing suspicion in their reluctant client.

On the way down to the lobby, Hannibal told B.A. that the real plan was for one of them to stay in the lobby and watch the doors, and the other was going to 'step outside for some air' and keep watch from the outside, to make sure nobody got out who wasn't supposed to, and that nobody came in with reinforcements that shouldn't be there.

"Maybe I'm starting to get a bit paranoid," Hannibal told him, "But I'm starting to consider the idea that Grant _knows_ we're here and he might be bringing a few friends with him. If that's the case, at least we'll have a chance to get the guns out of the van," he gestured to around the corner.

"Right, but Hannibal," B.A. replied, "Do you think it was a good idea leaving Face and that crazy fool up there to watch her?"

"Well you said yourself you don't think she'll try to kill us," Hannibal reminded him.

B.A. shook his head, "That's not what worries me…if she tries to escape again, exactly how're those two fools going to be able to stop her?"

"Don't forget, B.A, she's on uncharted territory now, this isn't her own private spider's lair strung out with booby traps like the last time when we were back in New York. She couldn't possibly have anything planned out this time."

And yet somehow that didn't make B.A. feel any better about their current situation.

* * *

><p>Face and Murdock tried to think of ways to keep their guest occupied so she didn't get curious as to their constant attention, and Murdock also realized it would be a good idea to make sure no matter what else happened, that she didn't open her bag and find out right away that the Hydromorphone pills were missing. Whether or not she was actually taking them at the current time, Murdock was sure she'd notice they were gone.<p>

"So, Miss Rhodes," Face said, trying to think of some way to start a conversation, "Have you thought about when you finally _do_ go home, what you're going to tell your parents? I mean you've been gone for six months now, they're going to wonder where you've been all this time."

"I suppose so," she replied from where she lay draped over the arms of a chair, "I hadn't really given much thought to what my story for them will be."

"Well I'm sure when they see you, they'll probably be so thrilled to have you back they probably won't care much anyway," Face said, "I guess they would."

"Maybe," she said, sounding as if she wasn't too convinced and also like she didn't much care anyway.

"Well, I wouldn't know," Face said, not wanting to get into his past but deciding anything that could keep the conversation rolling was worth drudging up the past, "I was an orphan."

"You were?" Jean looked at him, "I'm sorry to hear that. Of course, it could've been for the best. Everybody ought to have good parents but a lot of people don't. 10 years ago the numbers were astronomical, 2 million kids had their parents beating them up, and 2 thousand of them wound up in the morgue. And today the numbers are even higher than that. So I guess it depends on if you think a bad parent is worse than no parent."

Neither man was quite sure how to read into that one but it left them both with a feeling that she knew of what she spoke and was doing it with some experience under her belt.

"Did your parents hit you?" Murdock asked.

"No," she answered, "They were never like that. The truth of the matter is I would like very much to see them again but I doubt that will ever happen, even _once_ Grant and Saunders are dead."

"Why's that?" Face asked.

"Imagine having a kid," she said, "Imagine spending 21 years watching them grow up, starting to venture out into the world…and then picture them responsible for the brutal murders of 20 people. Even if I do get out of this alive, I doubt they would want to see me again if they ever _would_ find out what I've done, and it's bound to come out somewhere. It wouldn't do me any good to explain to them about Jean and the others. No court would care why I did it, all that would matter to them is _that_ I did it, I killed all those men…and I'll tell you the truth, I didn't enjoy it but I didn't hate it or myself for doing it either. Some people _do_ deserve to die, the problem is deciding who is and why."

Face cleared his throat and got up, "I could use a drink, how about you, Murdock?"

"Sure."

"And you, Miss Rhodes?" Face asked, "Do you drink?"

"Not much," she answered as she glared at him as if she knew something, "To do what I've done you have to stay sober at all times, but yeah, I'll have a drink, doesn't matter what."

Both men knew approaching the subject of mixing alcohol with any medication would be a fatal move so they overlooked the question entirely and just helped themselves to the contents of the room's mini-bar. They looked over at Jean who remained sprawled over the arms of the chair and she looked drawn tight as a drum and ready to snap at a moment's notice; it would seem that relaxing was an impossibility for her, despite the extreme change of surroundings. They supposed it was possible that after the last few months of her life, it would be impossible for her to ever let her guard down and relax again. She'd spent all this time hiding from the world and never being able to trust anybody, and they knew too well how old habits were hard to kill even once the war was over.

"It's going to be a long night," Face murmured to Murdock.

"Uh-huh," he nodded.

* * *

><p>It had started out long and slow and awkward the three of them trying to talk to one another and come up with something to pass the time with. When neither man had known just what to get from the bar for Jean that they were sure wouldn't interfere too much with any pills she might be taking, she got up and helped herself to a small bottle of gin, one of rum, and one of bourbon.<p>

"I thought you said you didn't drink much," Face noted.

She held up the tiny bottles from the mini fridge and replied, "How many of these do you think it takes to get drunk off of?"

"It's a good point, Facey," Murdock said.

Despite all the ads and lectures that alcohol didn't make things better, it did make it easier for the three of them to get along and converse with each other and it got the ball rolling for them. After a couple of hours of mixing drinks and playing cards and talking, Face fell asleep and was sprawled out his side near the edge of one of the beds with his face buried in a pillow, but Murdock and Jean stayed up, sat on the floor and continued to talk. The room was dark by now and they half-whispered now so as not to wake him up, and now that they were without any company, the conversation got a lot more interesting. Murdock entertained their guest by telling her about all the times and all the crazy ways that Face had come to break him out of the VA. The two were seated on the floor and Jean laughed and threw her head back against the footboard of the other bed.

"Here's what I want to know," she said to him, "How do you get a Pac-Man in a hospital room?"

"I have my ways," he told her in one of his kooky voices.

"I don't get why you do it though," she said.

"Do what?" Murdock asked.

"Why do you go back to the VA?" she asked, "I mean I get they'd come looking for you, but still…"

"Well it's where I belong," he told her.

"Why do you let them think you're crazy?" Jean asked him.

"Because I _am_ crazy," Murdock answered, practically glowing with pride of this fact, "There's no thinking about it, I am certifiably _cuckoo_." And as if to emphasize his point, he brought his hands up against him like a couple of short wings and cuckooed.

She laughed and shook her head, "I know better than that, Murdock. You're not crazy, so why do you make people think you are? You're the most normal person I've ever known."

"Really?" he scowled, "Boy you sure know how to hurt a guy."

She laughed again before saying to him, somberly, "Murdock, if I need help can I count on you?"

"That's why we're here," he said.

"No, I don't mean this," she said, "Sometime in the future, if I get in trouble, can I call on you for help?"

Murdock wasn't sure what was going on but he felt like the Godfather was calling on him for a favor soon, and as with the Godfather, he gave the only answer he could, "Sure, anything you need, you let us know."

"I don't know about the others," she told him, "But you I know I'll be able to count on."

Murdock couldn't help but wonder just what that was supposed to mean.

"Something I'd like to know though," he said, suddenly anxious to change the subject, "Why do you _act_ so mean?"

"Because I _am_ mean," she answered, "I'm not a nice person and I've never been."

"I don't think so," he replied, "See I know _you_ better than that. You're strong, you're tough…but you're not mean, B.A.'s right, you're not a killer."

"I've killed 20 men," Jean insisted.

"That don't mean anything," Murdock told her, "You're not a stone cold killer, you said it yourself, the only reason you're doing this is for revenge for all the guys that they killed. If it wasn't for that, you never would've done any of this, would you?"

"I suppose not," she said, "But if this wasn't going on I wouldn't have been in the damn army to begin with!"

"I know," he replied, "And if there hadn't been a draft 13 years ago we wouldn't have been there either." She looked at him with a sudden realization when he said that, and he added, "We seem to have more in common than we think."

"I suppose so," Jean calmly replied.

"So let's try this again," Murdock said, "Why do you _act_ so mean?"

"The same reason you _act_ crazy," she told him, "And the same reason the Hungry Tiger speaks constantly of eating small babies though he knows he could never bring himself to do it, we all have our images to maintain."

* * *

><p>Hannibal and B.A. were dead tired as they returned to their room; they'd been on the lookout for Grant and Saunders all night and never found anything to give them cause for alarm. They made their way up the stairs in semi-darkness and when they came to their room they listened for any noise from the inside and heard nothing. They were sure that everybody had just fallen asleep but just to make sure, B.A. stood by the door ready to bust in once Hannibal got it open incase anything was wrong. Hannibal threw the door open and they walked into a dark room and didn't see or hear anything. They went over to the bed and saw something that stopped them both in their tracks.<p>

Murdock, Face and the Saint were all in the same double bed together; Murdock was curled on his side on one edge and was quietly yipping like a dog, Jean was pressed right behind him and apparently sometime in the night she had stolen his Bogey Bear away from him and was using it as a pillow, and Face had somehow gotten pushed over towards the other edge so the top half of his body was practically on the floor. Hannibal went over to Face's side of the bed and without waking him up, grabbed him and pushed him back up into bed and positioned him closer towards the middle with Jean.

"Bunch of crazy fools," Hannibal heard B.A. murmur quietly.

"Well, one thing about it," Hannibal told him, "This way there's no way she can get out without them knowing. I say we let them sleep, and we'll take the other room. I don't think anybody here is going anywhere tonight."

* * *

><p>Murdock shot up in the bed gasping for air. His eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness and he realized that it was morning and the sun was starting to come up, and he was in a room somewhere…looking around he realized it was a hotel room, and looking to his side he saw Face still asleep in the other side of the bed, turned on his side with half his face buried in the pillow. Murdock wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and he tried to figure out what was going on. He found the clock that said it was just going on six in the morning; he didn't know how long they'd been asleep and he didn't remember now what it was that had made him wake up. A nightmare of some kind but what was it? He couldn't remember seeing anything or anybody, so he supposed it was a falling dream, he'd had a few of those before in his life and they still had the same effect on him now as they always had.<p>

Something was coming back to him, was it a dream, or a memory of being back at the VA? He didn't remember but whatever it was, he knew he wasn't going to be getting back to sleep, so he got out of bed, taking care not to wake up Face, and it was then that it hit Murdock that there had been a third person in bed with them last night. He looked over to the other bed and saw it hadn't even been slept in last night; he went to the door adjoining their room to Hannibal's and he saw Hannibal and B.A. each in one of the beds there and they were both asleep. He retreated back into his own room and quietly closed the door behind him; until he knew for certain that Jean was gone, he wouldn't wake them up, if this would prove to be a false alarm.

He stopped at the bathroom door and knocked, and when he didn't get any answer there, he went to the door leading out and pulled it open so quickly and with so much force that Jean just about fell in.

"Where have you been?" Murdock asked as he grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her in and locked the door behind her.

"Making sure that Grant didn't check in without our knowing during the night," she explained, "And so far nothing, I'm starting to worry that he _did_ give us the slip and is going on ahead to meet with Saunders."

* * *

><p>With that thought in mind, it was hard for all five of them to spend that day in the hotel room, constantly checking the equipment to see if there was anything going on in the room under Grant's reservation.<p>

"Let's assume Grant _did_ find out about us and is getting out of Dodge," Hannibal said, "Where in Illinois would Saunders be?"

"Chicago I think," Jean answered.

"My Mama lives in Chicago," B.A. said.

"Then you'd know the way," she observed.

"That's right," he said, and turned to Hannibal and added knowingly, "_No_ need to fly there, isn't that right, Hannibal?"

"Who said anything about flying?" Hannibal asked, feigning innocence.

Face looked at his watch and made the suggestion, "Does anybody want to get breakfast?"

"We'll order room service," Hannibal said.

"Ooh boy that sounds good," Murdock said, rubbing his hands together excitedly, "Sausage and toast and eggs and a couple gallons of hot black coffee!"

Jean made a sickened face and replied, "Bleck, not me, I _hate_ coffee, that smell makes me sick."

"How about the eggs then?" Murdock asked.

"I hate eggs too," she told him as she buried her face behind the daily paper.

"Oh well," Murdock said, "More for me and Billy." Then a look of shock came over him and he added, "I better see how he's doing, he don't like being cooped up all night!" And with that, he took off running into the next room.

B.A. shook his head and grumbled about, "Crazy fool, ain't no dog."

"I'm starting to wonder," Face confided in his two comrades, "If there isn't, how come _she_ can see Billy too?"

Hannibal turned to their sergeant and said, "He's got a point, B.A."

But he was not convinced. "So what? There still ain't no dog."

"Hey," Jean threw down the paper, "You think I want to see that demonic ball of hair? I hate dogs, always have, always will. I don't care if he _doesn't_ bite, Murdock better keep that dog locked in the other room as long as we're here or I'm going to put it to sleep myself."

B.A. snorted and said, "I'd like to see that."


	7. Chapter 7

Around noon, everybody was getting stir crazy from waiting, Face paced around the room and checked his watch again, then he went over to Hannibal and said, "I just thought of something."

"What's that?" Hannibal asked.

The door opened and Jean stepped in from the other bedroom.

"Uh Hannibal," Face said, "Can you give me a hand in the bathroom? I think one of B.A.'s rings fell down the drain."

"No it didn't, sucker," B.A. told him.

"Well _something_ is clogging it up, B.A., and I want to get a shower, Hannibal, you mind?"

Hannibal wasn't sure what was going on but he got up and said, "Okay, Face," and followed him into the bathroom.

Face pushed the door half closed and went over with Hannibal to the tub and said loud enough for the people outside to hear, "I'll run the water a little and you can see that it won't drain!"

"Okay!" Hannibal cluelessly replied.

Face turned on the taps for the shower and as the water ran he said into Hannibal's ear, "Exactly _what_ is the plan, Colonel, for when Grant actually shows up and we catch him? You don't think that Jean isn't going to try to kill him the second she sees him?"

"Not here in the hotel, Lieutenant," Hannibal told him, "She'd want to get him out to a dark alley somewhere."

"Well things change, she may get a new idea," Face reminded him.

"I know, I've thought of that too," he said, "That's why somebody has to stay with her at all times, we won't let her kill him and we won't let her get away to try."

"In that case," Face replied, "What do you think the chances are maybe we could get out of this room for a couple of hours? We're all going stir crazy in here."

"Except Murdock," Hannibal noted, "Might be a good idea though, if and when Grant does show up, I'm not sure I want Brutus to be among the first to know it. You think you and Murdock could get her out of here and make sure nothing happens?"

"I guess," he said, "But what are we supposed to do with her?"

"You brought it up, Lieutenant," Hannibal smirked, "I'm sure you can figure something out."

Face turned off the water and they headed back into the bedroom but as they exited the bathroom they heard B.A. and Jean arguing, and saw the two of them standing in the center of the room.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Jean asked, "There is no other way! They _have_ to die, to put an end to this mess once and for all."

"They need to be stopped, on that we agree," B.A. responded, "But what you're planning to do is just crazy."

"You really think so?" Jean asked, and she reached around to grab somebody and she saw she'd grabbed Face by the arm. He didn't know why she did it but since all eyes were now on him he tried to be humorous about it and smiled; Jean's response was to shove him to the back and she tried again. This time she stepped forward with Hannibal.

"Alright, B.A., you think I'm crazy?" she asked, and shoved Hannibal forward, "This man, Saunders and his men take _this_ guy and blow his brains out and bury him directly under the ground where the new recruits are going to be doing their physical training the next day. Are you just going to let that go? Or are you going to seek retribution?"

"I know what you're getting at but this still isn't the right way to go about it," B.A. told her.

"There's no choice, B.A., we can't turn them over to the police, they're not going to be court-martialed and anything else is just going to put them back at the heart of their business and setting up countless other young men to be killed. They _have_ to be stopped and the only way to do that is to kill them. There's nothing else you can do, you can't knock them out and put them on a boat heading to another country, any place they go they could still be in business because anywhere you go there is a big drug market, and they know how to get the supplies for the jobs."

"The problem," Hannibal told her, "Is you keep thinking like you're in this alone, you're not, now you've got the four of us to help."

She turned to him and said, "You're not my friend, none of you are…you're only here because it's a job, a job that it's turning out you can't even afford to take, so _why_ in God's name are you even still here, Smith?"

The others watched Hannibal to see what his response was, and they were surprised because he remained calm and acted as if he hadn't heard that, and answered, "Because right now, you need a plan, and I always have a plan."

"But you don't have one now, do you?" she asked smugly.

"Of course I do," he said as he took out a cigar and bit down on it, "But it's a secret."

"And those are always the worst kind," Face grunted.

"I heard that, Face," Hannibal said.

"Sorry, Colonel," he replied, and inched his way over to Jean and murmured into her ear, "Hey look, Miss Rhodes, you want to get out of here for a while and get some air?"

"Why? Where're we going?" she asked.

"Well I thought you and Murdock and I," he pointed to the three of them, "Might go out for lunch, as you said this is largely a charity case and a diner won't be as expensive as room service. Besides, there's nothing going on around here and I'm sure that if Grant _would_ show up while we're gone, that it wouldn't take Hannibal and B.A. long to track us down and get us back here."

"Fine with me," she said, "How bout you, Murdock?"

"Oh yeah that's just _fiiiiine_ with me," he said, "Oh but first I need to," he pointed to the other bedroom and half whispered, "Take Billy for a walk, then I'll bring him back here and we can go."

"Tell you what, Murdock," Face said and took out a map of the city, "You walk Billy and give us a head start and we'll be waiting for you on 9th street by the café."

Murdock made a throaty sound of amazement and awe and gestured towards Face with his hands as if he were unveiling a statue and said in a funny voice and equally funny accent, "Ze man iz a genius!" he pressed his fingertips to his mouth and kissed them and threw it at Face and added, "Zimple, unconcentrated zenius! I could kiss this man!"

"Hold that thought, Pierre," Face said as he put his hands on Murdock's shoulders and held him back, "Go walk Billy first."

"He really is crazy, isn't he?" Jean asked.

The adjoining door swung open as Murdock came back, stuck his head into the room and told her, "And don't you forget it!"

Face and Jean headed out the door and when it was just the two of them, B.A. asked Hannibal, "What's the idea, Hannibal?"

"Face is right, if Grant does come here we don't want Jean being the first to know or she will try and kill him, and also if he shows up, it would do us some good if he didn't spot her right away either."

"And if he doesn't come here?" B.A. asked.

"We'll also get out of Dodge and head for Chicago next," Hannibal explained.

"I still don't like this, Hannibal," B.A. told him, "I don't like this whole thing, something still ain't right here."

"I know it," Hannibal responded, "I've been trying to figure it out also, and I haven't gotten anywhere yet. I'm still not convinced that the kid's not going to try and kill herself, either anytime soon, or even once this whole mess is over, because the odds are when that happens, then she'll see it as her job is done. She doesn't seem to place much value on her own life, only to bring down everybody in the trafficking ring." Hannibal bit down on his cigar and tried to think for a minute. "You know, B.A., even given the seriousness of the situation, I'd like sometime before our job is done to be able to crack one real smile out of her, and see if she can even remember having fun. She's too young to be this hopeless."

* * *

><p>"So explain this to me again," Jean said to the two men as they talked over a lunch of burgers and fries, "How is it that this Colonel Lynch has so <em>little<em> to do with his time that he spends over 10 years trying to track down four men from Vietnam? Just because they escaped? The army really doesn't have anything better to do with their time, something a little more pressing than finding four American soldiers who are not a threat to themselves or the public and who have been spending the last 10 years doing nothing but helping people that nobody else can or will?"

"That's what I'd like to know too," Face admitted, "For all that we get chased after you'd think we killed somebody." Then he was sorry he'd said that.

Jean lowered her gaze to the table for a moment but she didn't say anything and neither did anyone else. When she looked up again she looked at Murdock and said, "So tell me how it is that you've been broken out of the VA about a hundred times for different reasons and nobody there is putting the dots together on that one?"

"What can I say?" Murdock said, "I got _luck_ on my side. Hey Faceman, next time we get a job, let's find a client in Las Vegas, that way I can try my luck at the casinos on the way." He mimed shaking dice and called out, "Snake eyes! Or the slots," he pulled an imaginary lever and called out, "Lemon, lemon, _lemon_! Jackpot!"

"And he's always like this?" Jean asked Face.

"Pretty much," Face said.

"But do you really think he's crazy?" she asked.

"I am certifiably _cuckoo_!" Murdock replied, flapping his hands and whistling like a bird.

"They've run every test on him imaginable at the VA," Face told her, "Some of them six times, if he isn't, he's got it down cold enough they can't crack it."

"Uh…" Jean pointed across the table and Face turned and saw what she saw; Murdock had stolen a plate of lady fingers off the dessert tray and was cutting them open and squirting ketchup in them.

Murdock realized he was being watched and he said, "Oh, sorry, did you want some?"

"No thanks," Face replied.

"So tell me more about this Colonel Lynch," Jean said, "You wanted to know what David Grant looks like, well what does this Lynch guy look like? How would I know him if we ran into him?"

"Well let me see," Face pressed the palms of his hands together and tried to think, "How do I describe it…he looks…"

"Like that!" Murdock said and they saw he was turned around in his chair and pointing towards the window.

"Oh boy," Face said as he recognized the mustached face right outside the main window turned at a profile. Though it didn't look like Lynch had seen them, both men turned back around so their backs would be facing the colonel.

"What's he doing here?" Jean asked.

"I don't know but I have an idea we're going to be skipping out on the check," Face told her, "Come on."

"Where're we going?" Murdock asked.

"The ladies room," Face answered.

"Ah I don't like going in there," Murdock told him, "Makes me nervous."

But as it was the three of them got up and headed to the back towards the restroom, went in the women's bathroom and one by one they climbed out of the window and hit the ground running, headed back for the hotel.

"You know something, Peck," Jean said as they rounded a corner, "I just had a thought."

"Terrific," Face gasped in response, "Tell it to me later!"

Murdock got ahead of the others and he came to a sudden stop and the other two about crashed into him.

"I got it, I got it!" he said, turning to the others, "I know how we lose the Colonel, look over there!"

They saw he was pointing to a movie theater that was showing a children's double feature: The Rescuers and 101 Dalmatians.

"In the theater?" Face asked.

"Oh come on, Facey, I never got to see The Rescuers when they came out, you know that," Murdock said.

"It's a dark theater, hundreds of kids, _nobody_ would look for the A-Team in there," Jean pointed out, "Let's go, I'll buy the tickets."

"Yeah we've got to get word to Hannibal and B.A.!" Face reminded her.

"I told you!" Jean said as they sprinted across the street to the theater, "It's a family reunion at the hotel, 500 Smiths, let him look for them, it'll be a needle in a haystack."

They about broke down the revolving glass door to get in the building and once they were in they quickly got their tickets and disappeared from the lobby. On the way into the theater room, Jean found a payphone, put a quarter in and dialed one of the two rooms at the hotel.

"Hello?" it was Hannibal.

"Lynch is in town, don't leave the hotel," she whispered into the receiver.

"What? Where are you?" Hannibal asked.

"Hiding," she answered, "We'll be back in a few hours, don't run off." And she slammed the receiver down and ran to catch up with Face and Murdock in theater room #4 for the double feature.

* * *

><p>After the second movie let out, Murdock, Face and Jean detoured through the room's fire exit and cautiously checked the surrounding area for any sight of Lynch, or any other man in uniform. Finding none, they were relieved but not ready to admit victory, they hailed a cab and had it take them halfway to the hotel but got out prematurely and instead hopped onto a bus that was just starting to move. When they reached the street the hotel was on they made another quick exit and entered the hotel through the side door leading to the dining room and from there hotfooted it to the stairs and jumped them two at a time to get up to their room. They weren't going to take a chance on an elevator and have the doors open up to reveal Lynch and the whole damn army standing in the hall waiting for them.<p>

Upon reaching the door to their room, all three of them were ready to break it down to get in but instead they wound up falling on top of each other like the Marx Brothers when B.A. threw the door open just before they could bust it open.

"Where's Lynch?" B.A. asked as he slammed the door behind them.

"We don't know," Face answered as they got up, "We lost him in the theater."

"And ain't seen him since," Murdock added.

Hannibal crossed over to the center of the room and was staring daggers at Jean who only returned the same murderous glare at him, and both apparently were thinking the same thing.

"What's Lynch doing here?" they both asked at the same time.

"The van probably tipped somebody off during the four hour drive since we couldn't spend one hour flying from New York to here," Hannibal said, not looking at B.A. but directing his comment straight at the big guy.

"I told you not to come and you wouldn't listen," Jean told him, "You should've stayed where you belonged and instead worried about helping nuns and orphans and farmers, business as usual."

"That's enough out of you," B.A. warned her, "We're here because we promised our services to your parents, to find you and bring you back, which we have every intention of doing, whether you like it or not. We're all in this mess and we're going to be in it until it's over, so stop picking your fights with us."

"Or what?" Jean demanded to know as she turned and looked at him, "You gonna hit me? You gonna punch my lights out, B.A.? Go ahead, that won't be anything new for me, I'm used to that by now."

B.A. shook his head and answered, "Not by me, not any of us."

Murdock came up behind Jean and put his hand on her arm as he asked her, "Who beat you up?"

"Never mind, Murdock," she said as she shoved his hand away, "That's none of your concern, _none_ of this is your concern, I told you from the start to get out while you had the chance, that you didn't belong, did you listen? No. So the question is now, what do we do since we're stuck in this together?"

"B.A., go look out the window, is the National Guard here yet?" Hannibal asked.

B.A. looked down to the street and replied, "Na, ain't anybody down there that shouldn't be."

"Okay, so we can probably guess that Lynch hasn't figured out we're checked into this hotel yet," Hannibal said, "We'll watch for him, if he comes, we'll make a break for it. We'll stay one more night, and we're going to see if Grant shows up tonight, and if he doesn't, first thing tomorrow we're out of here and heading for Chicago. If Lynch is able to follow the trail, we'll figure out what to do about that when we cross that bridge."

* * *

><p>"I never asked you to come," Jean told Face later that afternoon as they were getting ready for dinner.<p>

"I know it," Face said.

"I didn't want you here, I told you that," she reminded him.

"We know," Face replied, "Nobody is blaming you for anything that's going on here. This isn't the first time Lynch has caught up with us, and it won't be the last."

"So it's just going to continue for 20 more years until he dies?" Jean asked, "Or you do?"

"That's probably about the size of it," Face nodded, "But I find the future too depressing to think about, I prefer to just live in the moment, try not to think about what's going to happen too far ahead, I probably wouldn't like it."

"I can see that," Jean said, "None of you guys is married, are you?"

"No, we're not," Face answered.

"Well?"

"If you're asking if I regret that, no I don't," Face told her.

"I don't mind it so much," Murdock said as he came out of the bathroom, "Though I do get to thinking about having kids."

"Oh boy," Face said with a slight roll of his eyes.

Jean took it a step further and started laughing uncontrollably to the point she was holding her stomach.

"I can just see that," she said, "You and a wife and a houseful of little Murdocks."

"That's right," he said, sounding a bit defensive about it, "Build up my _own_ army, dozens of them!"

"Yeah but how're you going to do that if you're still staying at the VA?" Jean asked.

"Turkey wasn't built in a day, my dear," he replied.

"That's Rome," Face told him, "Rome wasn't built in a day."

"It still burnt though," Murdock said, "Probably wouldn't have made any difference if it was. So are we going downstairs for dinner or just ordering up here again?"

"Downstairs," Face answered, "Hannibal figures if Lynch _or_ Grant drops in, we'd have a better advantage downstairs by the doors. B.A.'s already taken all the luggage down and put it in the van so we'll be ready to leave in the morning."

Murdock watched Jean as Face spoke and he noticed she looked distracted, and also as if she had just traded places with Atlas and was about to have the globe balancing on her shoulders.

"You alright?" he asked her.

She snapped out of it and insisted she was fine. They went into the next room and met with Hannibal and B.A. and headed downstairs for dinner. Once again the hotel's dining room was crowded and they checked every table they passed to see if Grant was among the diners, but it was to some relief that they didn't see him anywhere. They wound up at the same table again tonight and this time were able to get everybody seated without a riot breaking out. But tonight the A-Team noticed there was something very different about their case in point; whereas last night Jean had made a big deal about watching the side entrance for Grant, tonight she wasn't even watching the door. She simultaneously slightly rocked back and forth and bobbed up and down in her chair and looked off to the side at apparently nothing. When the waiter came to take their orders, she hadn't even been aware of his presence and even once she realized he was there, she came up blank on anything to eat.

Nobody said anything but Hannibal looked across the table inquiringly at Face, who only shook his head in response. They didn't know what was wrong with her but determined she couldn't have been on anything because somebody had been with her all day and she'd never had her pills, Murdock still had them hidden somewhere; at least they thought he did.

"Did you eat something at the movie?" Hannibal asked.

"No," Jean answered, "Just as well," she pointed to Murdock and said, "This thing was ogling all the candy at the concession stand."

Murdock looked to the others, shrugged his shoulders and asked, "What?"

They were halfway through dinner when Hannibal suddenly stiffened and, hoping he had the right foot, tapped his foot against Face's to get his attention but not to let on to the others, especially Jean. Face turned his head ever so slightly to see back and he saw what Hannibal did; they'd never seen him in person but they'd seen his photograph enough over the last couple of days to realize that David Grant had finally shown up at the hotel. B.A. hadn't moved a muscle but he was seated at just the right angle that he didn't have to and he could still see what they also saw. Hannibal watched as the man made his way through the dining room and after a few minutes back at the lobby, he went over to the elevator and headed up to another floor. Hannibal threw his chair back a couple of inches and doubled over groaning, and suddenly everybody at the table was jumping up to see what was the matter.

"It must've been that lousy dinner," he said, "I feel sick. Face, go upstairs and get my pills, will you?"

"Sure, Hannibal, sure," Face raced for the stairs.

"Hannibal, you don't…" Murdock started to say but quickly shut up when somebody's foot kicked him under the table.

"I know, it doesn't happen often but when it does," Hannibal put his hand on his stomach and looked like instead he was suffering from a migraine, "Ironic thing is this never happened back in Vietnam," he looked to Jean, "And you'd never believe the stuff we had to eat there. Actually, I don't think I want to stay down here any longer, let's go upstairs and save Face the trip."

"Right," Murdock said, not getting what was going on.

B.A. 'helped' Hannibal up and over to the elevator and Murdock and Jean followed right behind them, but Hannibal stopped and turned to Jean and said, "Jean, I want you and Murdock to do me a favor. Do you remember where B.A. parked the van so nobody would find it?"

"Yeah."

"Good, go check on it and make sure nobody's found it still," he said, "If we're leaving tomorrow it has to be just as we left it. There's a small piece of tape on the hood, if the tape's broken, don't touch it, just come back here and get us. Check out everything else and make sure nothing's happened to it."

"Will do, Colonel," Murdock saluted, and he and Jean headed for the front door.

* * *

><p>The two walked out into the night and the cold evening air hit them like a bucket of ice water.<p>

"Sure gets cold at this time of the year, don't it?" Jean asked.

He couldn't say much from experience because most of his nights were spent in a temperature controlled room at the VA hospital. But this was fall and it did get cooler now, he knew that much, just not how cold it was supposed to be for normalcy. They found the van stashed away in a back alley far enough away from the hotel that nobody would think to come here and look to connect the two. On the surface it looked alright, they checked the hood and saw the tape was still in place.

"No bomb," Jean said.

Murdock looked at her and said, "You saw that movie too?"

She nodded slightly.

Murdock went around the van several times inspecting every square inch to make sure there wasn't so much as a scratch in the paint that didn't belong there. While he did that, Jean went to the corner and looked out to see if anybody was coming their way, and nobody was. She went back to the van just as Murdock came out of it and declared, "Everything is in tiptop shape here and ready to roll."

"Great," she said, pressing her arms tighter against her chest, "Murdock, you remember the other night when I asked if I could count on you for help?"

"Yeah, sure I do," he answered.

"Well, now's the time," she said, "I need to borrow your jacket and your cap."

"What for?" he asked.

"I can't explain," she said, "I'm going to take a little walk and I need to be by myself, but it's freezing out here."

Somehow this wasn't what Murdock had gotten in his mind when Jean had mentioned calling on him for help, but he was willing to go along with it.

"You know," he said as he took his jacket off and helped her into it, "Hannibal don't think you ought to be alone right now, especially out here."

"I know," she said as she took the cap off his head and put it on, "But I don't need a babysitter with me all the time, I'll be alright. You go on ahead back to the hotel, I'll catch up soon."

He didn't like the way that sounded, he felt like he was blindly taking the latch off of Pandora's Box for someone else to just raise the lid and let the evil out. But he agreed, he started to walk back to the hotel, but after turning the corner he stayed behind and listened to her walk off, to see if anything happened, if she would need him. Her footsteps finally disappeared and he had heard nothing else, so he took that as a sign that things had to be okay, and he continued on his way back to the hotel.

* * *

><p>He was slow in returning, and slow in making his way up to their room, he still felt that if he lagged behind for a while, if anything happened he would be close enough to do something if needed. But he'd dragged his feet for over 20 minutes and nothing had happened. He tried to convince himself that this was a good thing and in the same slow pace, walked up the stairs to their rooms. When he got there he quickly found out that he'd missed something big; he hadn't been informed when David Grant first got to the hotel that evening but they had the equipment playing back the tape that started running when Grant had made a phone call.<p>

There had been another man on the other end of the line, "Hello?"

"Saunders."

"Grant, where are you?"

"Right where we decided on."

"Were you followed?"

"No."

"Good. Now remember the plan, don't screw this up."

"_I'm_ not the one getting our own men killed off, Saunders, remember that."

"You have your own job in this to do, Grant, don't blow it, you remember your orders?"

"Yes, yes, in three days I hit the road again, but I make sure that I take my time getting out to Chicago, six more days, that way the trail is too cold for anybody to follow." He read off a list of streets and interstates he was to get on to make the trip out there, and the names of a few hotels to stop off at along the way. "Just remember, Saunders if _you_ screw this up, _your_ head is on the chopping block right alongside mine."

"I told you before to quit worrying, _nothing_ is going to happen."

"Everybody we worked with is dead, Jack, that's not _nothing_."

"It doesn't matter because the same thing is _not_ going to happen to us, just remember your part and make sure you don't blow it for us!"

That was when the phone call had ended. The four men stood in the room not saying anything, just looking around from the phone to the tape to one another, until Face finally broke the silence and said, "Friendly bunch, aren't they?"

"Well, now we know what we're doing," Hannibal said, "Murdock, go bring our bags back up, we're going to be staying here for a couple more days."

"Alright, Colonel," Murdock quietly replied as he moved for the door.

"Wait a minute, Murdock," Hannibal said, "Where's Jean?"

This was the part he had been dreading, but he knew there was no way around it.

"Well…" he started to say, and stopped when they heard the door open in the next room. They cut through the adjoining doorway and saw Jean enter with her back to them, wearing Murdock's jacket and blue cap. She closed the door and turned on the lights.

"Miss Rhodes," Hannibal said, "Where were you?"

Jean didn't answer right away. She slowly took off Murdock's cap and put it on the table beside her, she reached up with one hand and ran her nails over the hair on top of her head to straighten it out. Then she took off Murdock's jacket and put it on the table also. She slowly turned around and when she was 180 degrees from where she was, they saw her in full and all four men were at a loss for words. Jean was a mess of blood and bruises, half of her shirt was torn and falling off the shoulder and she looked like a mangy cat that lost an alley fight; her whole face was cut up and blue and black already.

"I think," she said, the words coming slowly because it hurt her to talk, "I managed to get Colonel Lynch off your backs for a few days."


	8. Chapter 8

The second they tried to reach her and get a look at her in the light, she slapped their hands away and warned them, "Don't touch me, I don't like being touched." She sat down on a chair in the middle of the room as they took turns holding the light towards her and seeing how extensive the damage was.

"What the hell happened to you?" Hannibal demanded to know.

"Well," she started to explain, "When we were out checking the van, I saw some guys in uniform a couple blocks away, and I decided to conduct a little experiment. I had Murdock give me his jacket and his cap and I walked down the block trying to pass myself off as him…apparently it worked. They spotted the jacket and they started yelling at me to freeze, I didn't, I started running, I never said anything though, I didn't try to do like he does and sing or anything…I just ran, but they caught up with me and before I knew it, they had me knocked on the ground and these two guys that look like soldiers, are taking turns beating me with the butts of their rifles. And then this Lynch comes up and he looks down at me and he's yelling at them to stop, that it's not Murdock. And I've got these lights blinding me and they're asking me who I am. I give them a fake name, they ask where I got this jacket from, I tell Lynch that I found it at a thrift shop when I was passing through Cleveland. I don't know if he believed me, but he knew they had screwed up. So he offers his sincerest apologies for the beating and explains that they are looking for four dangerous escapees, one of which wears a cap and jacket just like this."

"Dangerous?" Murdock took offense at that, "I resent that!"

"You resent what?" Face asked.

"I'm not dangerous, I'm just insane!"

"Anyway," Jean ran her tongue over her top lip that had been split open, "They let me go. And whoever Lynch has for a superior, I'll just bet they're going to kick his butt all up and down the block now. Letting an 'innocent civilian' be brutalized by his own men, because of a case of mistaken identity, the newspapers would just eat that one up. I'm sure that after that he's going to think twice before he tries to ambush somebody who looks like a member of the A-Team."

Hannibal took his cigar out of his mouth and pointed a finger at her as he said, "Now I _know_ you're crazy. You intentionally tried to pass yourself off as Murdock to see what Lynch and his boys would do to you."

"Well I knew it wouldn't stick, once they got a _good_ look at me and stopped beating me to death, they'd know that I wasn't him," she said, "And don't even think of getting angry at the little fruitcake, he didn't know anything about it, and as I told him, I don't need a babysitter, I'm 22 years old, Smith, I've been on my own for six months, I've killed 20 men, I _can_ walk down a street alone if I want to."

"And now you look like a black and blue jack-o-lantern," Hannibal pointed out.

"Still _my_ business," she told him, "Not yours."

She stood up and took one step before she doubled over, but unlike Hannibal's performance in the dining room they could tell that her pain was real; Face saw that she was clutching her left ribs, and it didn't go unnoticed by the others either. Hannibal went over and tried to put his hands on her but she jumped back screaming at him not to touch her. Hannibal tried to remain calm but his annoyance at her resistance was evident in his voice when he said, "Your ribs might be broken, I have to take a look."

"Forget it, Smith," she said, "The only way I'd let you examine me is I'd have to be knocked out _cold_. Murdock!" she turned to him, "Get my pills."

"What pills?" he asked.

"The pills Smith had you hide," she answered, "What did you think?"

"Alright, just calm down," Hannibal told her, "We have to know, now unfortunately I've had enough experience to know what broken bones feel like, you won't have to get undressed, alright?"

She didn't answer but she looked like she'd rather be facing a firing squad than doing this now. Hannibal had Face and Murdock get on either side of her and help hold her still; they crowded in on her and pressed on her shoulders so she couldn't move, while Hannibal felt her ribs through her T-shirt. She groaned and struggled and tried to move, but Hannibal concluded, "I don't think they're broken, more likely just bruised. Would you have any objection to lifting up your shirt?"

"Yes I mind _very much_," she replied as she stood back and pushed away from them, "I'm not having any dirty old man looking at me, like I said, Smith, I don't know where you've been." With that she backed away from all of them and went into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

"Well anybody else got any ideas?" Face asked, "We don't want to run the risk of bringing in somebody who can remember seeing us here and report it to the authorities."

"What about Maggie Sullivan?" Hannibal asked.

"Maggie?" Face repeated.

"Jean probably wouldn't object so much to having a woman doctor examine her," Hannibal pointed out.

"You know how far away we are from Bad Rock?" Face asked, "And we don't have a plane to zip over there in."

"Murdock," Hannibal said, "Go listen at the door, hear any water running?"

Murdock placed his ear on the bathroom door and shook his head, "Quiet as a dead doornail," in one of his more theatrical grandstanding voices he marched away from the door and added, "Like Jacob Marley all those Christmas Eves ago when…"

"Shut up, fool!" B.A. yelled at him.

"Okay, when she comes out we'll check the bathroom for a blood trail," Hannibal told them, "No broken ribs, I'd wager it's a safe bet we don't have to worry about her succumbing to a punctured lung in the night. Unless she becomes a one-person bloodbath tonight, we'll wait and see how she's doing tomorrow and if it looks bad, we'll figure a way to either get Maggie here, or take a detour through Bad Rock."

"Uh, Colonel," Murdock spoke up, "When're we going to tell her that Grant's here?"

"_What?_" the bathroom door opened and Jean stepped out, "Grant's in the hotel? When?"

"Calm down," Hannibal advised her, "He got in a little while ago while you and Murdock were out, he contacted Saunders and you're right, they're going to meet up in Chicago, we have his schedule and his travel directions, so we know exactly where he's going and when…he's going to be here for three days so we're going to extend our stay and keep an eye on him."

Jean opened her mouth to respond but Hannibal cut her off, "You want to bring this whole thing to an end once and for all, alright, that's what we're going to do, but it would be better in the long run if we let the last two ring members meet up and we kill two birds with one stone, understand?"

She didn't like it but she slowly nodded her head in agreement, though she didn't say one word about it.

"Alright," Hannibal said, "Now we know he's here and we know he's going to stay for a while, so we can afford to relax a little…but one of us will be at that phone all night incase anybody pays Grant a visit or he tries to get in contact with Saunders again. But in the meantime, it would be in your best interest to take a couple of painkillers, lie down, and put some ice on your face."

"I have pills," Jean told him snidely, "You hid them."

"The only way you're going to get those back is if you let me examine you," Hannibal told her in response, "So we know that you actually need something that potent. Otherwise, I'll be very happy to send Face out to the drugstore to pick up some Tylenol."

"I can't take Tylenol, it makes me throw up," she said.

"Alright, ibuprofen," he told her, "Face."

"I'm on it, Hannibal," he said as he headed for the door.

"Murdock," Hannibal added, "There's got be an ice machine somewhere in a hotel this big, go find it and bring back some."

"Okey-dokey, Colonel," Murdock saluted as he followed Face out the door.

"B.A.," Hannibal turned to him, "Why don't you bring our bags back up since we won't be going anywhere for a few days?"

B.A. looked annoyed but he also left the room, leaving just Hannibal and Jean in it. Jean threw herself on the bed in one move and sat up against the headboard. "I can think of a few _worse_ people to be stuck in a room with," she commented.

He ignored her comment and asked her, "Just what the hell were you thinking?"

She refused to meet his gaze for a few seconds, but when she finally did she answered very calmly, "I was thinking it's about time to cast some doubt on the oh so dutiful Colonel Lynch and his men. A guy spends more than 10 years hunting down four people that nobody knows, nobody sees, that's not healthy, it becomes an obsession, he may be starting to lose his mind…he may start doubting his own eyes, if nothing else, people are going to start doubting his credibility when word gets out about what happened tonight. Maybe somebody in the military will decide 'to hell with it, call the whole thing off, give them a pardon' before somebody winds up getting killed, somebody like an innocent bystander civilian." She picked up a small mirror Face left on the nightstand and looked at the work done on her face. "I ought to get some pictures taken of this and send them off to the newspaper to plaster all over the front page tomorrow morning."

"You know, you could've gotten yourself killed tonight doing something stupid like that," Hannibal told her.

"Oh come on, Smith…Lynch wouldn't kill _you_, he wants you to rot in prison for the rest of your unnatural life, you and your friends…he wouldn't take a chance on something like that, he needs you guys alive so you can suffer as he wants you to suffer. Between you and me, that colonel needs a new hobby," Jean said.

Hannibal just rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly, he picked up the small lamp on the nightstand, turned it on and held it out to the side to shine the light on her face. She was blinded by the light but otherwise didn't move and didn't inquire what he was doing.

"It looks worse than it really is," he said as he put the lamp down, "All the same, before Murdock gets back with the ice, it would be a good idea to clean that up. When B.A. gets back, I have a bottle of peroxide in my bag."

"You forget, Smith," she said as she folded her arms and looked up at him, "I've been on my own for six months, I know how to be prepared too."

"That may be, but given the sudden resemblance your face has to turned hamburger, I prefer our odds better," he told her.

* * *

><p>B.A. was the first one to make it back, carrying everybody's bags at once and in turn dropping them all on the floor in one spot. Murdock came in a few minutes later, explaining that he didn't have much trouble finding the ice machine, but had trouble getting the ice because the machine's interior had been taken over by an army of midget alien space penguins. He wrapped a bunch of the ice in a hair towel from the bathroom and Jean kept it on the worst side of her face for about half an hour before Face finally made his way back into the room, and by that time everybody had well noticed his long absence.<p>

"Lieutenant there is an all night drug store four blocks away from here and at this time of night in this town, traffic slows to a snail's crawl," Hannibal told him, "So what kept you? Were you _making_ the ibuprofen?"

Face managed to keep from cracking though he couldn't help becoming a bit histrionic as he reached into the pharmacy bag and said, "Do you have any idea how hard it is at this time of night to find an oil based concealer that is a matching color to the skin tone of a person you don't have with you to check as a reference? And did you know that there are apparently some 50 different kinds of skin tone in the world now? And _every_ single one of them has their own colored concealer and you have a choice between powder, water based or oil based. _You_ try getting the right one and doing a hundred yard dash back."

Jean propped herself up on her spare elbow and saw Face through one eye and turned to Murdock and told him, "Your friend is wearing makeup, Murdock, this can't be good, next thing you know he'll be wearing those egg pantyhose and getting a perm."

Face came closer to breaking down laughing at her remark as he dropped the jar of makeup on the nightstand beside her and remarked, "It's for you."

"For me what?" she asked, "I don't wear makeup, never have."

"If we're going to be staying anywhere for any period of time and not draw attention to ourselves it would help if your face didn't look like a bowling ball," Face told her, "Maybe you're not aware, Miss Rhodes, but people have a problem when women start turning up looking like they've been used as an Everlast bag."

"Sure they do," she said, "And they also have a problem with trained soldiers armed to the teeth who start beating the daylights out of unarmed civilians without provocation. I am telling you guys, a little publicity on this is not going to hurt anybody except Lynch and his men."

Face ignored her comment and took a bottle of pills out of the bag and put them on the nightstand by her as well, "Those should help take the swelling out."

Jean picked up the bottle and said, "I suppose a little whiskey is out of the question."

* * *

><p>Jean was moved into the second bedroom with Murdock and Face, in the hopes that being away from the audio spy equipment might help keep her asleep and shut up for the night.<p>

"This guy's sawing logs, Hannibal," B.A. said as he put the headset down, "Ain't anything gonna happen tonight."

"Probably right," Hannibal said as he looked at the clock and saw it was going on 2 in the morning. He yawned and added, "And not a bad idea, we'll have to get up soon enough as it is." He crossed over to the door separating their room from the next and said, "I'm going to go check on the others first and make sure nothing's happened."

He slowly and quietly opened the door and peered in, Jean was asleep in one bed, half of her face bandaged up for the night and that was the side she was sleeping on. Murdock and Face were in the other bed, Murdock curled up with his Bogey Bear, half murmuring something in his sleep, and Face was turned on his side opposite Murdock and he was in a sleep so deep Hannibal had to watch closely to make sure he was still breathing. Hannibal was satisfied with what he saw and he pulled the door close behind him and returned to his own room.

As soon as the door was shut, Murdock and Face opened their eyes and sat up in bed. Face pointed over to the bathroom door and Murdock nodded, they got out of bed and crept along to the bathroom and shut the door and turned on the light.

"So what were you saying earlier, Murdock?" Face asked.

"Well I feel bad about what happened to the Saint tonight, Facey, I didn't know what she was going to do," he said, "But I think it's bothering the Colonel more. You know he ain't gonna admit it, but I think he might be worried."

It was certainly understandable, they both knew that for all their crazy chases with and escapes from Lynch over the years, that there had never been any innocent civilians getting caught in the crossfire. And this one didn't fall, she walked right into it with both eyes wide open; she sought out the enemy with a plan of her own, and, according to her, it worked, but it was still nuttier than hell. They'd used half a bottle of peroxide on her before bandaging her up for the night and she'd swallowed four pills before conking out; but never a word of complaint about any of it. The only way it could make any sense to Face was she _had_ to be crazy; he could think of no other logical explanation, for any of it.

One thing he would admit, all things considered, the Saint, or perhaps rather Brutus, depending on how those identities split, had proven most sufficient in the last six months; 20 men dead, some of them trained SEALs, and none of their murders a simple matter either. From some perspective he had to confess it was an impressive record, especially for someone so young; but after serving in the war and seeing his share of killings, he knew that it wasn't anything to be proud of. And he knew, they both knew from her own confession that she wasn't, but she'd seen it as a necessary evil, and maybe it was. There was a reason that despite all the destruction they caused in their line of work, they went to extreme measures to try and guarantee that nobody got killed, no matter how horrible they were or what reprehensible things they'd done. Two wrongs didn't make a right, that's what he'd always been told growing up in the orphanage, maybe it was right, he tried to believe it but there were times he wondered.

When he and Murdock had returned to bed, Face looked up at the ceiling even though the whole room was pitch dark and he tried to think. He tried to imagine just what it had been like for this young woman, what hell she herself had gone through, and how it had shaped her final decision of what had to be done. Somehow, despite all the horrors they'd seen in Nam and been put through, he didn't think it could compare; it couldn't compare, because none of them had come back from the war with the sensation that murder was the only way to solve a problem.

He remembered when she grabbed him, and then shoved him back and brought Hannibal forth for her visual aid to B.A. and it made him think; what if it _would've_ been Hannibal they killed and buried at the base? But he knew that was impossible, Hannibal might get caught from time to time, but he would never be killed. Murdock? He looked over at the other man in the bed and suddenly the mental image of a gun aimed at Murdock's head blowing his brains out and his lifeless body slumping forward onto the muddy ground became only too realistic in his mind. And if that had been the case, what would _he_ do? If he'd been the only living witness to the murder, what would he do? If it weren't for Hannibal and B.A., _where_ would he go? Unfortunately the more they were involved with this case, the more it was slowly starting to make sense to him, and he didn't like it. He didn't like any of it. The $5,000 they got from the Rhodes was barely going to cover their costs as it was already; he would be very happy once this job was over, they got the girl back home to her parents, and then they could move onto another client, somebody with a normal problem, maybe another small town cult with a homicidally psychotic leader like Jamestown. That was stuff that he could handle, those kind of things they knew what to do about it, he didn't have any idea what they were going to do this time.

* * *

><p>Bright and early the next morning everybody was up and Murdock was stirring the contents in the makeup jar with a spoon as if he was stirring sugar into tea. "Oh Miss Garbo," he said in a throaty voice, "We're ready for your makeup test."<p>

Jean was dressed and sitting on the bed leaning against the headboard again; Face had just removed the bandages and she'd been through another peroxide facial and now they were able to see that her face was not as bad as they'd thought, all the same the bruises simply had to be covered up.

"Murdock," she said warningly, "I swear you touch me with that stuff and I'm going to punch your lights out."

"Well that won't do you much good," Murdock told her, "The sun's up now, plenty more light where that came from."

"I'll do that, Murdock," Face said as he took the jar from him.

"Oh _that_ makes me feel a whole lot better," Jean dryly responded.

"Just try and hold still, Miss Rhodes," Face told her as he put a small applicator brush into the cream, "This is going to sting."

"That's the least of my worries," she assured him, "It hurt like _hell_ last night when those bulldogs were beating me with their rifles."

"Why did you do that?" Face asked as he started to apply the makeup to her face, "What could possibly possess somebody to do something as stupid as that?"

She scoffed and said, "You're the one playing makeup man and you're asking me who the stupid one is?"

Murdock piled the pillows behind her head so she sat up straighter and Face had easier access to put the concealer on.

"Look, I told your colonel last night, Lynch is _not_ going to order a hit on any of you guys if he wants you guys to rot in a prison cell the rest of your lives…it was a sure thing, I knew that they'd eventually figure out that I wasn't Murdock and let me go. And with that line I fed them about the thrift shop they've probably all moved backwards towards Cleveland and are tearing apart every store there showing them your pictures saying 'have you seen these men?'" She seemed to be reveling in the image damage she had managed to do to Lynch and his men. "The only thing that could make this more perfect would be if they suddenly found a hundred grand in stolen cash on his person somewhere, let him explain that one!"

Face leaned in to Murdock and whispered, "We better feed her soon, she's sounding loopy."

"What about Grant?" she asked.

"Hannibal told you, we're going to stay on his trail, and we'll deal with him when he meets up with Saunders next week," Face told her as he resumed covering up her bruises.

"Why's it taking so long?" she asked.

"You mean to tell me you never had to wait to kill off the others?"

"Not like this," she said, "Not just sitting around waiting…plotting, planning, getting everything ready, into order, making sure nothing went wrong, that's what I did in between each kill. But now all this waiting around is just making me crazy."

"Aw honey," Murdock said with a southern twang as he sat down on the bed beside her, "Waiting around don't make you go crazy, it just helps you realize when you're there."

"Let me get this straight," Jean spun around to look at Face and asked him, "This guy flies the plane?"

"It takes a little getting used to," Face told her.

"I'll bet, but in the meantime, what are we supposed to do while we wait on Grant?" she asked.

* * *

><p>They got something in the form of an answer of what to do with their time when later in the day, Face looked out the window and saw Colonel Lynch and several MPs talking to people out in the street.<p>

"This guy is like a cockroach, you can't get rid of him," Face murmured to himself, and went to warn the others. "It looks like he might be coming here next, so if you've got another plan, Hannibal, we're all ears."

But Hannibal remained his usual calm, collective, nonchalant self as he lazily smoked a cigar and he said, "Face, we're not going anywhere."

"What?" Face asked.

"I told you before, Peck," Jean said, "This hotel is crawling with Smiths, let them look."

"Well she does have a point," Hannibal said to the others, "But I _do_ have a plan that should guarantee Lynch doesn't find out we're here."

"What is it?" Face asked.

Hannibal went over to where B.A. dumped their bags and he picked up one large case and said, "Well Face, you're probably not going to like this."

It was very seldom he'd ever heard that in connection with one of Hannibal's plans, he'd said it himself plenty of times but nobody ever said it to him. "Already I don't," he replied, "But what's the plan?"

"I remembered the last time I left Hollywood I had 'accidentally' taken some makeup and costumes from the set for the movie Beach Party Monster, I'm thinking now it might come in handy." He opened the case and showed the contents to everybody in the room.

B.A. only grumbled and shook his head and said, "Hannibal, you' crazier than Murdock."

* * *

><p>It took Lynch a good long while to come to the two rooms the A-Team was occupying; he <em>had<em> taken the liberty of inspecting every person checked into the hotel under the last name Smith, and it was an exhaustive search. An hour after entering the hotel, he came to room 108 and, showing professional courtesy incase this would prove another wild goose chase, knocked first.

"Who is it?" they heard a woman's voice from inside.

"Colonel Lynch of the United States Army, ma'am, I need you to open this door and let us in," he said.

"The army? My Lord," the woman replied, "Just a minute."

The door opened and a wrinkled, gray haired grandmother figure stood in the doorway, wearing horn rimmed glasses and a large unshapely dress that practically went down to the floor. Looking inside the room, Lynch could see two other girls sitting by the beds.

"Forgive us for intruding, ma'am," Lynch said, "But we're looking for four dangerous fugitives."

"Fugitives?" the old woman repeated, and scoffed, "Not in my room, sonny, there's nobody here but me and my granddaughters. But _please_, by all means, come in here and feel free to stomp on an old woman's privacy!"

"I apologize, ma'am, it'll only take a minute," Lynch assured her, "You took this room and the one next door?"

"That's right," the old lady told him, "I got three granddaughters, can't keep them all in the same room or nobody sleeps."

"Ma'am," Lynch said firmly, "Could you explain why you checked into this room under the name Joe Smith?"

"My dear departed husband, bless his heart," the woman pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes, "I'm Joanna Smith."

"I see."

"Joe and I were married for many happy years," the grandmother was now openly bawling into her handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Colonel Lynch replied.

The grandmother sniffed and snorted and blew her nose and told him, "But you can see why I would put a man's name on the register, four poor defenseless women traveling alone."

"Yes ma'am, I see," Lynch told her, sorry now that he'd even come into this room.

"I still have his name listed in our telephone directory back home, you just never know who will try and take advantage of poor, vulnerable women."

"Yes ma'am," Lynch said, "If you don't mind, we'll just be a minute and then leave you alone."

"Oh I don't mind," 'Joanna' pocketed her handkerchief and took him over to the two girls, "This is my youngest granddaughter, Tammy."

"Hi," the teenaged girl with red hair dressed in a blue sparkle bathing suit and sunglasses said with a small wave.

"And this is my middle granddaughter, Ella."

Lynch saw the other girl had her head tilted back, wore a green cream mask, had her hair tucked under a shower cap, cucumber slices over her eyes, and was covered with a robe and a big towel, and had her hands tucked under it.

"I never shake hands," Ella said, "Especially when I just had my nails done." And for a half second she poked her ruby red painted nails out from under the towel before replacing them.

Joanna leaned in to the colonel's ear and confided in him, "We told her it's just an awkward stage but the truth of the matter is she's just plain ugly."

"Grandma!" the swamp monster in the bathrobe protested.

"And there's my oldest granddaughter, Lillian," Joanna told the colonel, "Now let me think, she is…"

A high pitched scream rang out from the bathroom in the room next door.

"Oh that's right, she's taking a bath."

A couple of the MPs had taken the liberty to search the second room while Lynch kept the old woman busy in the first one. One had opened the door and there was another woman wearing a shower cap, in the tub covered by a million white bubbles, with half of the shower curtain drawn, and she started screaming and splashing in the water as she grabbed a towel and held it up in front of her, screaming hysterically and exclaiming, "It's a Peeping Tom! Get him out! Get him out!"

The MP doubled back and slammed the door behind him; Murdock took off the shower cap and leaned against the side of the tub and giggled. The curtain was drawn back, revealing B.A. who had been sitting on the other edge of the tub, and he was not pleased by being soaked clear up to his knees. Just as B.A. reached over to strangle him, Murdock put a finger to his lips and signaled for B.A. to be quiet until Lynch left.

"Well I'm sorry we couldn't be of any help," Joanna told Lynch as he and his men were leaving, "But I hope you get your men, _sugar_."

Lynch visibly grimaced at that word, and he left the room and closed the door behind him and all but ran towards the elevator to get away from her.

Once all was clear, Hannibal pulled off his wig and glasses, Face removed the cucumber slices from his eyes and the shower cap off his hair and threw down the towel and took off the oversized bathrobe, and they all laughed at the plan working so well. The door to the next room opened and Murdock came in dressed in a pair of swimming trunks and a T-shirt, both of which were completely soaked through, and B.A. was right behind him, leaving large wet footprints with every step he took, like a drowned Sasquatch.

"That was a brilliant plan, Colonel!" Murdock said.

"Yeah," Face agreed as he started to peel off the red press-on nails that he didn't even want to know _why_ they were made in his size, "I think you managed to scar Lynch for the rest of his life. Just too bad we couldn't buy ourselves some more time here to enjoy it."

"Well where would the fun be in that, Face?" Hannibal asked.


	9. Chapter 9

As the day progressed on, Jean still wouldn't let on as to how sore she was after the beating, nor would she even consider letting Hannibal exam her. But both Face and Murdock could tell she was having a hard time moving around in comparison to the previous day, so both went out of their way to keep her off her feet and let her rest.

"Maybe now that the cavalry is gone I can take this clown paint off," she said as she grabbed a Kleenex and started to wipe her face with it.

"Don't do that," Face told her, "That's not going to work."

"You know, Peck," Jean told him, "For Smith being the one with all the movie experience, you sure seem to know a heck of a lot about makeup."

Face glared at her like an annoyed cat and he responded, "I've dated a lot of beauticians, including a few students who," he cleared his throat, "Needed a test subject."

"I bet they say that to all the boys," Murdock commented as he went over to Jean's bed, carrying his Bogey Bear with him. He sat down beside Jean and said to her, "I want you to take Bogey for a while and watch him for me." He leaned in to her and said confidentially, "For some reason, B.A. don't like him, I think he'll try and hide him somewhere."

"Murdock," Face said, "I thought that Bogey…" and how could he put this one gently? He remembered when Murdock's teddy bear had been shot to pieces a while back and how torn up Murdock had been, tearing the stuffing out in grief. _"You alright, Murdock?"_ _"Yeah, but I don't think Bogey's gonna make it, Lieutenant."_

"I thought that he…didn't make it," Face explained.

Murdock looked at Face in mild surprise and he explained, "Oh no, Face, you see, Bogey would _never_ intentionally go into a suicide mission, so what he did was send in a decoy bear in his place and stay out of sight until the fighting was over."

Jean caught the look on Templeton's face and she laughed as he just about lost it. She could hear him murmuring as he turned away, "And I had to sit up with this guy all night when he was crying about the bear dying…" He turned back around to face both of them and added, "Had to have a _funeral_ for that bear, buried him in a shoebox, put up a little stone and everything!"

"Well Face," Murdock said calmly as if it was perfectly logical, "We had to do that to make it look official, that way Bogey would be safe when he came out again."

Now Jean _was_ laughing at the frustrated look on his face as he tried to say something in response to that, and either couldn't come up with anything to say, or choked on what he could.

"Sure, Murdock," she said, "I'll keep an eye on him." She took the bear from him and started feeling around the bear's furry little body.

"What're you doing?" Murdock asked.

Jean tested the back for Velcro and said, "Just checking him for concealed weapons."

"Oh Bogey don't do anything like that," Murdock told her.

"You never know," she replied, "By the way, Murdock, I thought of something the other day. You know how you're always saying that you're crazy?"

"Because I am," Murdock took pride in his answer.

"But have you ever thought about the fact that anytime somebody says they're _not_ crazy, they are, and when they say they _are_ crazy, they're really not?" she asked him.

"For a _normal_ crazy person maybe but I am a super _duper_ crazy person!" Murdock reveled in the title, "The rules for insanity don't apply to me there."

They heard Hannibal and B.A. from the other room and Jean tossed the bear behind the pillows she was propped up against and watched as the other two men entered the room.

"What's going on?" Face asked.

"I'm working on a plan for when we leave here," Hannibal said, "B.A. and I have been going over a map to find the quickest route from here to Chicago, we can get there plenty ahead of schedule and ahead of Grant. As far as I can see so far, Face, the only thing we're going to need you to get us is a wheelchair."

"A wheelchair?" Face repeated, "Why?"

"Never mind that yet," Hannibal told him, "But somewhere between here and Chicago we need to find a wheelchair."

Face turned back towards the two other people on the bed and Jean asked him, "Business as usual?"

"Pretty much," he answered.

* * *

><p>Murdock was too deep in his sleep to wake up, but he was awake enough that he could hear the moaning coming from the other side of the bed. He reached over and felt Face's arm and shook him, murmuring, "Face, wake up, you're having a nightmare." Ordinarily it would be a suicide mission to blindly try and wake up a Vietnam veteran caught in a nightmare without taking precautions; he himself didn't recall too many times that he could prove that, but Face had proven dangerous prior to and upon awakening several times. Fortunately somehow over the years there had been some form of recognition established so he knew when he was shaking that it was one of them trying to get his attention.<p>

But the moans continued, now Murdock was starting to wake up, but he still didn't open his eyes yet. Instead he readjusted his aim and pressed his hand against Face's back and shook him, repeating, "Come on, Face, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

Now he heard somebody else moaning and realized _that_ was Face, then who was the first one? Murdock opened his eyes and looked over to the other side of the bed and saw Face was just starting to wake up, and now _he_ was reaching over to Murdock and pressing against him saying the same thing, "Wake up, Murdock, you're having a bad dream."

"Facey, wake up, it's me," Murdock told him.

Face opened one eye and saw Murdock sitting up in the bed, and his second eye opened as well and he turned over and saw they were both in the bed with a foot of space between them, "What happened?"

"That wasn't you?" Murdock asked.

Face was still half asleep and only shook his head and made a small 'mm-mm' sound. Then he realized something, and so had Murdock; there had been three of them when they went to sleep earlier that night and that was why there _hadn't_ been a gap between them before.

"Whoops, she got away," Murdock said.

"Not again," Face groaned as he started to get up, but he felt Murdock pulling him back down on the bed again instead. He turned towards Murdock and saw the man was leaning over the edge of the bed; Face crawled over alongside him and saw what he saw, Jean was lying on the floor with a pillow under her head and nothing more.

"What're you doing down there?" Face asked her.

She had looked either like she was asleep, or like she was posing for her coffin, but with the light from the streetlamp shining in through the window, they saw her eyes open and she tiredly explained, "I already fell out of that bed twice. I'm staying _right here_ until morning."

And they didn't have to guess _why_ she had fallen out, now they knew where the moaning had been coming from; and they could definitely relate, they'd each had their share of nightmares since Vietnam, and they could only imagine what sights haunted her own dreams. Face put his hand on Murdock's shoulder and Murdock turned to him, Face said something into Murdock's ear and he nodded in agreement, and both men sat up in the bed and Face picked up the pillows while Murdock yanked the cover off and the sheet out by its hospital corners.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning when Hannibal went into the adjoining room to see if Face and Murdock were up yet, he was met with a very unusual sight, and all he could do was stop in his tracks and take it all in with mild confusion, and slight amusement. Nobody was in either of the beds, all the bedding had been ripped off during the night and was spread all over the floor where there were three large lumps underneath the blankets, and all of them several feet away from one another.<p>

B.A. came in behind Hannibal and stopped behind him and looked around at the odd sight as well, and was just as clueless at what was going on. It almost looked like a bunch of kids had piled their sleeping bags together at a slumber party to build a fort to tunnel through. Hannibal smiled in anticipation of this explanation and, stepping over towards the bed, he stood like he was back in the army commanding his men and called out in a loud and very military voice, "FACE!"

The first lump on the floor shot up and showed his face, and the dazed look showed that Face _had_ been asleep until then, and if Hannibal had to guess, he didn't even know at the moment where he was, let alone why he was there. Then he called out similarly, "SAINT!"

"What?" Jean asked as she sat up three feet away from Face. She looked up at the two men now towering over them and just met their looks with one that made her resemble a cat that had been rudely awakened from its nap.

"MURDOCK!" Hannibal tried again, but this time the third lump didn't move. They all looked around the room, and Hannibal tried again, more subtly this time, "Murdock?"

Face and Jean turned when they heard a noise coming from the other end of the blankets and they saw something moving underneath them; Hannibal went over and pulled up the blanket and revealed Murdock stationary but crawling on his hands and his knees, exclaiming as he surfaced, "I've found the tunnel, Adams, it's _this_ way! We won't pay five dollars for tea, we'll climb aboard the ship and toss it over! We'll make the ocean the biggest cup of tea that ever existed!" and laughed maniacally.

Hannibal looked to Face and asked, "Well, Lieutenant? What went on here last night?"

"Uh…well," Face tried to remember.

"How good is your imagination?" Jean asked Hannibal.

Face sharply turned to her and murmured in her ear, "Don't help me!"

Hannibal watched his discomfort and laughed as they started to get up. Jean grabbed her clothes and went into the bathroom while Face and Murdock replaced the pillows and covers on the beds. Hannibal went over to Face and asked him, "So what _did_ happen last night?"

Face didn't want to go into it with Hannibal, especially since he didn't know himself, so the only thing he said by way of explanation was, "Nightmares."

"Ah," Hannibal replied somberly in understanding.

Hannibal felt an immense force poking his shoulder and turned to see what it was B.A. wanted.

"I got an idea," he told Hannibal.

"What is it?"

* * *

><p>Hannibal had told Face and Murdock later that day to keep a close eye on their guest and to make sure she didn't find her pills; which they considered to be a safe bet because the only person who knew where they were was Murdock. Since they'd already succeeded in getting Lynch off their tail, they weren't going to ruin their good luck by leaving the hotel and going out in public until they took off for Chicago, so this made for another day spent going stir crazy in their hotel room. Shortly after lunch Face noticed that Jean, who had hardly moved from her spot on the bed all day, had suddenly become groggy and her head moved from one side to the other as she started to nod off and fought to stay awake, and then without warning she just collapsed on the bed unconscious. Face went next door and got Hannibal and told him what had happened.<p>

Hannibal and B.A. followed Face into the room and saw the girl passed out on the bed, Hannibal only consulted his wristwatch, and taking the cigar out of his mouth, said to the man behind him, "Ten minutes, you were right, B.A."

Face looked back at them, "Right about what?"

"I told Hannibal to give her the same knockout stuff you give me before we get on a plane," B.A. explained, a murderous gleam in his eyes at the last word.

"That way, I can better examine her without her trying to kill us," Hannibal added, "She wouldn't let me take a look at her before but she doesn't have a choice now." He turned back to B.A. and told him, "Now we had to alter the dosage greatly since she's a lot smaller than you are, but I don't think there's a chance she'll wake up before I'm done, however if she _would_…"

"I get it," B.A. said, he turned to Murdock and said, "Come on fool, we'll wait next door till this is over."

"And what about me?" Face asked Hannibal curiously.

"You're going to stay here and help me turn her over," Hannibal answered, "If she _would_ wake up, somebody's going to have to hold her down."

"Oh joy," Face dryly remarked.

* * *

><p>B.A. absentmindedly paced around the room waiting to hear what the verdict was and how bad Lynch's men had messed the girl up. Turning to pace again he caught Murdock standing by the door with his ear pressed against it.<p>

"Get away from there, fool," B.A. told him, "You ain't gonna hear anything."

"Now that's where you're wrong, you big angry mudsucker," Murdock replied, replacing his ear to the door, "I _do_ hear something."

"What' you hear?" B.A. asked.

Murdock turned and said, "They're coming," and moved away from the door.

The door opened and Hannibal and Face came in, met immediately with the obvious question from B.A., "Well, how bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Hannibal answered with a sober look on his face, "The MPs got her pretty good when they thought she was Murdock. She's got bruises all over her front and back, running from top to bottom, and they all look like they were made at the same time, so there's no question that they all came from the same source."

"And, based on their shape, I'd say it definitely confirms her story of being hit with their rifles," Face added, looking a little green all of a sudden.

Face and Hannibal both noticed the murderous glare in B.A.'s eyes when he heard that, and they knew exactly what was going through his mind; and they also were aware of the futility of it all because the people he wanted most to make suffer for what they'd done, were the last ones any of them would ever be able to touch.

"So what do we do now?" B.A. asked.

"Well nothing seems to be broken, and I'm still not convinced she's in bad enough shape to actually need those morphine pills," Hannibal explained, "She ought to be knocked out for a couple hours now, that'll give her some time to rest, it'll be night soon and first thing tomorrow we're getting out of here and following Grant to Chicago and to Saunders."

"And then getting her back to her mama," B.A. added.

"Absolutely," Hannibal told him, and added jokingly, "We can't keep her with us, we don't have any use for her."

Hannibal hadn't missed the grim look on B.A.'s face and when Face and Murdock returned to the second room and it was just the two of them left, Hannibal asked him, "What's the matter, B.A.?"

Of course he could guess what a large part of it was. They all still felt horrible for what the Rhodes girl had put herself through in order to help them; there was no way they would've ever condoned a plan like hers if they'd known about it ahead of time. But apparently what was bothering the sergeant was something else entirely.

"Aw Hannibal, ain't there some way we can get a hold of her parents and let them know she's here so they won't have to worry so much?" he asked, "At least they'll know she's alive."

"I know, I thought about the same thing," Hannibal told him, "But I don't want to take a chance on using the phones here incase Lynch would've had the lines tapped as a precaution. Maybe once we get to Chicago, but I'll be honest with you, B.A., I don't want to get their hopes up incase something would go wrong. It's very tempting to just take her back to New York while she's still out cold, but that wouldn't mean the end of anything, she'd only find her way back and she'd be out for even more blood than she already is. Unfortunately we have to take her along with us and see this through to the end, once we deal with Saunders and Grant, _then_ we'll be able to take her back, but until then we'll see what we can do about getting in touch with the Rhodes and giving them _some_ good news anyway."

"Good," was B.A.'s only response, and it was the same threatening tone when he was about to punch Murdock's lights out.

Hannibal had a good idea why this case was such a sore spot for B.A., he was the only one of the A-Team that still had a mother; Murdock's had died when he was five, Face had been abandoned by his parents, B.A. still had his but due to the situation of their lives, he rarely got to see her and the colonel knew that it was hard on his sergeant, and probably, equally hard on his mother. And since he always felt like a father to the other three men in the team though he would never admit it, he could understand the parent's frustration in such a situation of never being able to see their child; and he realized that Jean's situation was not all that different from their own. The reasons why she couldn't go home were different but she had been right; if she went back before this whole ordeal was over, she and her parents would all be targeted and at risk, so it only made sense that she was going to stay away until everybody in the ring was dead and it would be safe to go home again. But the real question was would it ever be safe to go back home?

* * *

><p>Around 2 o' clock that afternoon, Face was sitting in a chair by the bed watching TV, but his attention was quickly drawn to Jean when the unconscious girl started moaning into the pillow and trying to get up.<p>

"I guess that _was_ a weaker dose than normal," he commented.

Murdock was making his way back from the bathroom when his foot hit something and he yelped and bent over to grab his foot and started hopping around on the other.

"What happened?" Face asked.

"Oh…" Murdock groaned, and yelled through to the next room, "B.A.! Next time watch where you drop our luggage, would ya?" He looked down to see just _what_ he had kicked and saw that it was one of Jean's bags and it was half open with stuff falling out onto the floor. Murdock bent down to put everything back in the bag before she woke up and accused him of snooping through her personal belongings when he realized _what_ in the bag he had kicked that hit his foot so hard. He pulled out three old hardback books that practically stuck together in one large volume. Prying them apart one by one he looked over the covers and spines and read the titles, "The Emerald City of Oz, The Lost Princess of Oz, and The Magic of Oz."

"Hey!" Murdock almost dropped the books when he heard Jean and he looked to the bed and saw she had her eyes open, but was still groggy and had only been able to move her head around to see him, the rest of her body hadn't caught up with her yet.

Murdock got up and went over to the bed with the books in hand and he tried to explain but something got jumbled in the translation, "I, I, I wasn't…I was just…"

"Give me those," Jean swiped the books out of his hands and gripped them in her own, "This is _one_ thing from home that I still have, I'm not about to have _anything_ happen to them."

"I'm sorry," Murdock said, but he wasn't about to leave it at that, he pointed to the books she placed under her like a pillow and said, "I remember when I was a kid they read those to us in school."

That didn't seem to faze her any, but she strained her neck to turn and see Face when he added, "Yeah, me too, I remember somebody at the orphanage had gotten the whole collection for the kids. Boy that was a while ago."

"Oh really?" Jean forced a weak smile and asked, "How old _are_ you, Peck?"

"Uh uh," Face shook his head, "You never reveal your true age."

Jean turned back to Murdock and whispered to him, "I think I was onto something with the makeup thing." And she laughed.

"How're you feeling?" Face asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Cheap," was her response, and with a knowing glare in her eye she told him, "I had this horrible dream that these two morons were looking me over like they were checking under the hood of a car."

"Oh boy," Face murmured.

"You drugged me," Jean accused as she tried to sit up, "You knocked me out and felt me up."

Did that stuff make people hallucinate? Face got up and went over to the bed and told her, "We had to see for ourselves how bad the damage was."

"Damage?" she repeated, "You talk like I'm the smashed-in grill of a car, you had _no right_ to do that, Peck, neither you nor your precious colonel."

"We had _every_ right to know," he replied defensively, "We're trying to get you back to your parents alive, we don't need you dropping dead on us prematurely."

She glared up at him through eyes that were half closed again and she told him, "I wouldn't waste my time on it if I were you, when they see me again they're going to _wish_ I was dead."

Now Face was _sure_ the drugs had to be making her delusional, she was making even less sense than she already had been in the last couple of days. Murdock tried talking some sense into her and she barked accusations at him too, and tried to turn on her side but she collapsed against the mattress groaning in pain. Murdock picked up the pill bottle by the bed and took a few out for her to swallow.

"That's _why_ we had to know," Face tried to reason with Jean, "We're getting out of here tomorrow to follow Grant, remember that part of the plan? And when he meets up with Jack Saunders we're all going to have to be in the best physical condition possible."

"Well don't worry about me," Jean bitterly told him, "I'll manage just fine, I always have."

Murdock saw the fingers on Face's right hand starting to curl and uncurl into a fist absentmindedly. They were from the generation that was raised not to hit girls and that was something they'd carried into their adult lives as well, but Face looked like he was about to break with the tradition, but instead he got just a few inches away from her face and he told her, "You know what, kid? You're just lucky that we felt sorry for your parents, who went to so much trouble to find us because they wanted us to find you and bring you back. For the life of me I can't figure out why they _would_ want you, you are the most ungrateful, selfish brat I've ever seen and trust me I've had more than my share!"

"Face!" Murdock couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"By all means, Peck, feel sorry for my parents, I certainly do!" Jean responded as, ignoring the pain caused by any sudden movements, she hoisted her whole upper body into a sitting position, "I feel sorry for them that they had to only have _one_ child in their whole lives and that they get one kid, can't even do anything right, _everything_ I've ever done all I've done is screw it up and this is my _one_ chance to try and make things right and I'll do it just fine _without_ your help! I'll say it again, Peck, and don't you forget it, I _never_ asked any of you to come along and help me! If I'd had it my way I would still be working alone, just as I like it because when there's nobody else to worry about having to trust, there're no problems. But you just _had_ to come in trying to be the heroes, and I told you no, go waste your time helping somebody else, somebody that _needs_ your help, somebody who actually _wants_ your help, but did you listen? No!"

Even Murdock would admit you knew things were bad when the crazy one of the bunch had to step in and be the referee, and before he was aware of it that's just what he was doing; he'd gotten between the two of them before either could try doing something that they'd regret later, but he quickly became sandwiched between them as Jean tried to get past him to punch Face. He tried to talk some sense into both of them but it didn't work, and he didn't know whose hands had grabbed him by the throat but he felt his head shaking back and forth like they were trying to make a doll's head fall off, thankfully his had been screwed on a bit tighter.

Hannibal and B.A. heard the fight from next door and came rushing in to see what the problem was and the scene before them would've been funny if it wasn't serious. Hannibal ran over to the bed and pulled Jean off of Murdock, and as soon as that piece of bread was out of the mix, Murdock turned around and locked his arms around Face to restrain him, so he couldn't get away and do something he might regret either.

"What's going on in here, Captain?" Hannibal asked Murdock.

"I'm not sure, Colonel," Murdock replied, and he nodded towards Jean and said, "But I think the angry mudsucker's mean streak is starting to rub off on her, either that or those knockout pills make the subject more aggressive upon awakening."

"And what about the Lieutenant?" Hannibal asked.

"I have no idea," Murdock answered. But that wasn't entirely true.

"Get him out of here and let him cool off," Hannibal advised Murdock.

"Right, come on Faceman," Murdock grabbed him by the arm and walked him into the next room, leaving Hannibal, B.A., and Jean in the room.

Hannibal still had Jean from behind with his arms locked around her ribs and she tilted her head back to glare at him, but before she could say anything, he moved one arm up so he had her by the neck as he glared down at her and firmly explained, "And as for you, Brutus…I don't care if you are injured or not, if you ever do anything like that again I'm going to stuff you so full of those damn pills that you don't wake up until next Tuesday, would you like that?" He shook her a bit to get his point across. "No? Then behave yourself," and then he let go of her. "You may have had free range of what you could do when you were by yourself but you're with us now, and I don't let _anybody_ treat my teammates like that; and I don't care what you've been through, you're no exception, you mess with one of my men, you _will_ be sorry."

* * *

><p>Murdock had poured a stiff drink for Face, who accepted the glass, and swallowed about half of it before he seemed to calm down.<p>

"Feeling better, Facey?"

Face shifted his gaze towards the floor but nodded and gasped out, "Yeah, thanks."

Murdock wasn't sure if he should ask what was the matter; he felt that he didn't really need to ask, he could guess what it was. Face, being the youngest of them, never looked at things from the angle that a parent might, like Hannibal did, but at times, as a child would, and here was one child, an orphan, being jealous of another child because she had parents and seemed to be taking them and their very existence and their love and concern for her, for granted. All the little things that she seemed to brush off without a care were the same things he would've killed for as a kid just to have somebody to belong to who wanted him.

Face finally looked up at him and snapped at him, "Don't look at me like that! I'm not proud of what I said, I don't know _what_ made me do it."

Murdock looked up towards the ceiling trying to come up with something to say in response, finally settling on, "It's alright, muchacho, we're all on edge, this is something difficult for all of us to deal with."

This was definitely _not_ a normal job for the A-Team, though then again, what was?

Murdock wasn't sure if he ought to tell Face what his own thoughts about the girl were, but it didn't matter because he didn't get a chance; Hannibal was calling them back into the other room.

"Oh boy," Face groaned, he knew this wouldn't end well. Murdock walked behind him with a firm hand on his shoulder to reassure Face that he'd be on his side. When the two men returned to the room they saw Hannibal sitting at the head of the bed and Jean was out on the edge in the middle with her arms crossed and she looked over to the wall instead of facing them.

Hannibal looked at Face with his usual 'set of teeth playing with my mind' smirk and said, "Get over here, Lieutenant, since you two want to act like children so much, I want you both to apologize."

Face went over to the bed and looked at Hannibal, but their colonel pointed over to Jean instead and explained, "Not me, apologize to her." But she remained with her back turned to him, and Face was only too happy to repay the favor. He sat down on the bed beside her with his back to hers and his arms folded against his chest to match her perfectly.

"Oh man," B.A. chuckled, "They's a couple of bookends."

"Might be, B.A, might be," Hannibal replied with a knowing grin, "But it's giving me an idea."

"Uh oh," Face and Jean said when they heard that, and, each being surprised at hearing the other speak, they turned around and faced each other, and the tension broke when they both looked at each other and grinned.

* * *

><p>"Maybe her behavior can't be justified but I guess I <em>can<em> understand it, Hannibal," Face told him later when they were in the first room, "She goes on about she doesn't have anybody she can rely on, that she can trust, and then you knock her out to examine her."

"And I can understand her position but it still had to be done," Hannibal replied.

"I know," Face said, "But I got to thinking earlier...also, if Murdock's right and she was taking those Hydromorphone pills, now that she can't find them she's got to be going through withdrawal and you know how violent people can get then."

"And in that case it's just a matter of time before she starts ripping the rooms apart looking for them," B.A. added.

Hannibal turned to Murdock and asked, "Do you still know where they are?"

Murdock only nodded incase Jean would've been listening at the door.

"Good, whatever you do, make sure she doesn't find them," Hannibal told him, "We're leaving first thing in the morning."

"Hannibal," Face said, "I was thinking about that, if we're taking a shortcut to get to Chicago ahead of Grant, how're we going to know that he's actually going there and not going to give us the slip?"

"I thought about that," Hannibal replied, "Remember a while back when that gang followed us by placing a tracking device on the van?"

"How're we going to find out which car down there is his?" Face asked, "We didn't see what he got here in."

"No, but we will tomorrow," he responded.

Face grimaced and said, "I have a feeling I'm not going to like _this_ plan either."

"Have faith, you haven't heard my plan for once we get to the next hotel," Hannibal said.

"And that is?" Face asked.

Hannibal's trademark grin was back as he explained, "We'll be going in as a family."

Face looked horrified, "Aw Hannibal, don't tell me I'm going to be your 'slightly retarded' nephew Harold again? We've done that one _three_ times when we have to get a hotel room on short notice, and I'm getting sick of it. It's _embarrassing_."

"Nope, I've got something better planned," Hannibal replied, and laughed lightly at his friend's pending misery.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, David Grant checked out of his hotel room, took his two suitcases out and threw them into the back of an Eldorado convertible and was about to get in when Hannibal bumped into him with an unlit cigar in hand and said, "Excuse me, sir, do you have a match?"

He kept Grant busy long enough for Face to plant the tracking device under Grant's car and then made a mad dash back to the van, and a minute later, Hannibal followed. They watched Grant's car pull out and leave the hotel parking lot, and a minute later they were on his tail. From a screen installed on the dashboard they were able to see the bleep heading off towards the intended destination.

"All seems to be a-go here," Face said, "Now let's get out of here."

B.A. was _not_ happy with the seating arrangement in the van, he was driving of course, but he was stuck with Murdock beside him, and Face, Jean and Hannibal were in the back. Hannibal had taken out his movie makeup kit and was in the process of making himself into a very old man.

"Now everybody remembers the plan when we get to the hotel," Hannibal said, "Grant's not coming in for two days, so when he comes we'll have already gotten established there. We get adjoining rooms again as Henry Tuttle," he gestured to himself, "Eccentric old tycoon, and his three eccentric grandchildren," and gestured to the others, "On holiday." He looked to Face and Jean and reminded them, "So remember what that means, where the hotel staff and guests are concerned, _you_ are brothers and sister."

Face and Jean turned to look at each other and both got a sickened look like they were smelling a bad fish, and each turned away shaking their heads with a unanimous, "Eck!"

"Tell me I don't have to kiss her," Face said to Hannibal.

Murdock fell back in his seat whooping and hollering and tilted his head back to see in the backseat, albeit upside down, and said, "That's got to be the first time Faceman ever said _that_ about a woman."

"Murdock," Hannibal said, "Hand Face the phone, he needs to get our reservation for five set up before we get there."

"And where's this place we' going?" B.A. asked.

"It's called the Sea Mist Inn," Hannibal answered.

"Weird name for a hotel in Illinois, ain't it?" Jean asked, "Though as warm as it's getting today, I sure hope they have a pool."

"Well we'll go along with it," Hannibal responded, "And when we get there, remember, presentation is important."

* * *

><p>And what a presentation they made. Upon entering the hotel, Hannibal was made up to look like he was about 100 years old with ratty gray hair under an old panama hat, makeup wrinkles that gave him resemblance to a prune, and he was pushed in a wheelchair by B.A., who was dressed in his usual attire of black pants, a long red muscle shirt, and of course his 40 pounds of gold jewelry; and trailing behind both of them were Face, Murdock and Jean, all of whom had swapped their regular clothes for sandals, sunglasses, jean shorts and Hawaiian style T-shirts, all of which had come from Hannibal's beach monster movie costume bag.<p>

When they came to the front desk, they saw that the man behind it was the hotel's manager, and obviously he had no idea who these people were.

"May I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, sonny," Hannibal said, pretending with great efficiency that he couldn't bring his head all the way up, "Reservation for Henry Tuttle and family."

The manager looked behind Hannibal at B.A. and repeated, "Family?"

"Well you see, sonny, at my age I'm not in the best of health," Hannibal said, and with one hand he reached behind for B.A. and said, "This is my nurse, Lawrence."

"Nurse?" the man repeated as he looked at the large man covered in gold jewelry.

"He likes to dress casually, so I let him," Hannibal said, "And these are my three lovely grandchildren." He held his hand out and Face came up by his side first, "This is Dirk." Murdock followed after Face and Hannibal grabbed his hand and said, "This is my other grandson, Dwight." And Jean came up behind them and Hannibal introduced her, "And this is Melinda. Ain't too many men in my position could be blessed with triplets like these."

"Triplets?" the manager repeated as he looked the three people over curiously.

"Yes…obviously," Hannibal turned to them, "They're not identical. I bet I know what you're thinking, the boys look _much_ older than the girl…and you're right, they do, and I'll tell you…the secret is alcohol, she drinks, and they don't, doesn't it make a world of difference?" Hannibal laughed. "Oh but don't worry, sonny, they're all _old_ enough to drink, they just celebrated their 30th birthdays."

Hannibal's laugh unnerved the hotel manager who only stuttered in response at the three, "H-happy birthday."

"Anyway sonny, as I was saying, if you check your records," Hannibal said, "You should find a reservation for Tuttle."

They were given two rooms up on the third floor, adjoining as requested, one for Henry and Lawrence, and one for the three grandchildren, and once again four double beds to be split between them. Everybody stayed quiet until they got shown to their rooms and they were sure nobody was eavesdropping. Jean went over to Hannibal and tapped his foot with hers and said, "Hey Grandpa," she lowered her sunglasses to look him in the eyes, "I still say you made a mistake by not following Grant directly."

"Do you gamble, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked.

"Only in life," she answered.

Hannibal smiled coyly and said, "I find your lack of faith severely underwhelming."

"Faith is not my problem, Smith," she told him.

"Uh huh," he looked at her and said, "Well when you find out what it _is_, then let me know."

He would never say anything to her of course, and at the moment he didn't want to say anything to the others either; but he could guess what her problem was, and if he was right, he could easily anticipate the next few days being a roller coaster ride with Sybil throwing the switch. Of all the jobs they'd ever done and all the clients they had and all the hostages they had to rescue, through all of it, one thing that they had never had to do was be in an enclosed space with a morphine addict suffering from withdrawal. Of course there was always the chance that they were wrong, he sincerely hoped that was the case; a lot of men had come back from Vietnam already hooked on morphine and then suddenly cut off when the VA let them go, and the results had never been pretty. If they were going to get this kid back to her parents in a few days, the last thing they needed was the same thing happening there.

As they got a few things unpacked for appearances' sake, Hannibal watched Jean, who made no move to take anything out of her bags, and just sat at the foot of one of the beds and nervously rocked back and forth with a distant look in her eyes. He tried to shrug it off, probably just the anticipation of catching Grant and Saunders and putting an end to this whole conspiracy. One thing he had noticed, when they had her knocked out and he was examining her the other day, he had been sure to look her over for needle marks, and was relived to find none; so if she was an addict he thought it was a safe bet she hadn't gotten her first or last taste of the stuff through a syringe, that was one thing in their favor anyway.

"I noticed," he told the others, "That the hotel has a large pool over in the side, I think it would be a good idea if we headed down there in a little while."

"What for?" Face asked.

"Well we may be an eccentric family but we don't want to draw _too_ much attention to ourselves," Hannibal told him, "It would be perfectly normal to go swimming as warm as it is."

"And who all would that include?" Face inquired.

"You three, obviously," Hannibal said, "And B.A. and I will be close by keeping an eye on everything."

"For what, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"Yeah, I thought you said Grant isn't coming for two days," Jean added.

"Who said anything about him?" Hannibal asked, "There's always the possibility that Lynch found out where we were going, and if not him, we also want to make sure the police don't come around asking questions about us either. And I'll bet we can pick up on most of the conversations going on around here at the poolside." Then it occurred to him to ask Jean, "Do you know how to swim?"

"Yeah," she answered.

"Good," Hannibal replied, and then to the three of them he added, "Get changed."

* * *

><p>Hannibal stayed well in character of a jibber-jabbering old man who never shut up as B.A. pushed him in the wheelchair over to a table near the pool.<p>

"Oh wait a minute," he said suddenly, "Put me in one of the chairs at the table, you know, I want to blend in with the others."

B.A. rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever you say, Grandpa," and he set the brake and hauled Hannibal out of the wheelchair and carried him over to the nearest table and set him down on one of the patio chairs.

"I wonder what's keeping Face and Murdock," Hannibal commented.

"Knowing that crazy fool," B.A. didn't finish that thought because he honestly didn't _want_ to think about what Murdock was up to.

They got an answer a minute later though when they heard Murdock whooping and hollering and they saw him running out to the pool in a pair of swimming trunks, a T-shirt, and with a seahorse inner tube around his waist and floaties on his arms; he jumped clear over the side and made one large splash in the pool.

"Oh brother," B.A. groaned.

Hannibal watched the same scene and laughed instead, and as entertaining as that was, it was followed up when Jean and Face came out towards the pool also, Face also wearing swimming trunks and a T-shirt, and Jean in the blue sparkle swimsuit she'd worn when Lynch paid them a visit.

"Come on!" Jean said as she dragged him by the arm over towards the pool.

Face managed to stay in character as he got jerked the whole way, saying, "No thanks, sis!"

Jean called over to Murdock to come and help her, so Murdock climbed out of the pool and they each grabbed one side of Face and rushed him towards the edge of the pool and all three of them fell in and made a killer splash.

"You know," Hannibal continued to drawl on in his ancient voice with a twist of a southern accent, "It does an old man's heart good to see young people enjoying themselves."

"Mm-hmm," was B.A.'s only response from where he was reclining on a sun lounge near the table and the pool, but far enough away that he didn't have to worry about getting wet.

Hannibal may have only been half the age of the part he was playing, but the sentiment was all the same; he couldn't help but smile at his captain and his lieutenant jumping around in the water playing like a couple of children, and in between them was Jean, as Hannibal had hoped, howling with laughter as she and Face got into a fight splashing each other as hard as they could, genuinely smiling for the first time since they'd met her.

Maybe he was just getting philosophical in his old age, but he thought that he could draw a similarity between the girl, and Face; they all knew that in order to be the conman that he was, he always had a front put up for anybody and everybody that he talked to, always had his mask up, a protective barrier to separate the real him from the rest of the world, and unfortunately Hannibal could tell Jean was the same way, but for a different reason. This was the first time that they'd caught her with her mask down; here she wasn't the hard, cynical person she seemed to be, oh Hannibal had no doubt that a large part of it was real. The trauma that she must've suffered upon seeing her friend gunned down in cold blood alongside many others by the men who were supposed to be training them to serve their country, had to be great, there was simply no way around it. But, Hannibal was not as ready to declare her a lost cause as she was; he held fast to the belief that once the ring was finally broken, and she was able to return home with her parents, that her young life could return to something resembling normalcy. _Somebody_ deserved a normal life, not being hunted at every point by soldiers and MPs, and if it couldn't ever be them, and Hannibal was sure it would _never_ be them, then maybe they could spare this kid a similar fate.

Hannibal threw his head back and laughed as Face and Murdock alternated as one dove under the water as one surfaced and the other dove under to catch the other and that one would come up in his place. Jean had retreated to a corner of the pool but when Face resurfaced she came over to him and told him she would get Murdock for him.

"This I've got to see," Face said.

Jean pushed herself up onto the tiled edge of the pool and sat waiting; she had positioned herself so she was perfectly behind where Murdock came up for air, and when he did she jumped on his back and both of them fell back under the surface. When they came up a second time they were wrestling with one another and Jean was still on his back and trying to get him in a headlock.

"You know something, B.A.," Hannibal said, "I don't think Face would've ever wanted a sister."

Probably not," B.A. agreed, "But it looks like he got another brother instead."

Somebody sent a large splash in his general direction and managed to hit him, B.A. turned his head to the side and growled as he looked back at the three goofs in the pool. After a while, Face managed to get away from Murdock and Jean and climb out of the pool, and decided to lay out on one of the lounge chairs by the pool and take in some sun instead; but as soon as he sat down on it, the chair collapsed and he fell on the ground, and very quickly he heard everybody laughing at his expense. He glared across the other side of the pool at Hannibal and B.A. who were both about sick, as well as Murdock and Jean who were doing a very good impression of a hyena.

* * *

><p>That night all five of them were together in the room Hannibal and B.A. were going to be using for the night; testing the level of soundproofing that went into the walls incase anybody would be passing by outside. Murdock had found a small radio in his bag and turned every dial every which way trying to find something but he wouldn't say what it was he was looking for. He finally settled on a station playing music suitable for either going deaf or raising the dead, and looked for somebody to dance with.<p>

With the exception of B.A., they'd all been drinking that night and the others figured it must've taken effect with Jean because she volunteered to dance with Murdock; though what they did redefined dancing because all they did was join hands, each placed their free hand on the other's shoulder and they walked to the side one way, then back the other way, and occasionally went in circles. Hannibal watched the scene before them and laughed, B.A. only rolled his eyes and shook his head like they were all crazy, and Face decided to try and get in on the fun. He went over to them and tapped Murdock on the shoulder and asked, "Mind if I cut in?"

"Oh not at all," Murdock answered as he let go of Jean and instead grabbed Face and walked off with him.

"Muuuurdock!" Face whined as they waltzed over towards the bathroom.

Jean laughed and went over towards the others and said, "How about you, B.A.? You wanna dance?"

"No thanks," he firmly replied.

Jean looked to Hannibal and said, "And I suppose there wouldn't be any point in asking you, would there?"

"No, I'm like James Cagney, I don't even like to walk," Hannibal sarcastically responded with a Cheshire cat grin.

Jean turned around and laughed again as Face and Murdock came back their way, still in each other's arms, keeping fairly well in step with one another. Face broke away from Murdock and went over to Jean, who just pushed past him and said, "I'm going to sit this one out, my feet are killing me."

"Well I'm not surprised," Face told her, "Why couldn't you find a pair of boots that actually fit you instead of those clodhoppers?"

Jean sat down in a chair and massaged her feet through the large boots and answered with, "You might say they have a…sentimental value to them."

"Ain't nothing sentimental about getting trench foot," B.A. remarked.

"He's right, why don't you take them off? We're not going anywhere tonight," Face suggested.

"No thanks," she replied in the same manner B.A. had said it, "I don't take these things off until I get ready for bed."

"Oh, that reminds me," Murdock said from the other side of the room where he had settled for dancing by himself and wriggled and shimmied around like the fool B.A. was always calling him, "I sent some of our clothes down to the laundry to get cleaned, but I think I sent all of yours, Saint."

"Oh that's just great," she dryly remarked, "Nothing personal but I'm in no mood to sleep au natural with the present company in the vicinity."

"I thought about that," Murdock told her, "I could lend you an extra set of my pajamas for the night."

"Why not?" she didn't sound too enthusiastic of that, but as she got up to head to the bathroom, she went over to Murdock and added, "Though that reminds me, I hope you don't mind but I can't find my toothbrush so I've been using yours."

"Naw that's fine with me," Murdock told her, "I can't find mine either so I've just been using B.A.'s toothbrush."

"You WHAT!" B.A. jumped to his feet and made the whole room shake.

Murdock put his hands up and said, "Now calm down, B.A., I trust you, you look clean enough to me."

"That does it," B.A. told Hannibal, "This time I'm really gonna kill him." In two steps he was on top of Murdock and had his huge hands wrapped around Murdock's throat and was choking him.

Face was the first to reach them and to try and get B.A. off of Murdock, naturally without results; Jean scrambled over to their luggage and picked up one of her bags and, swinging it by the strap, hit B.A. square in the back of his head. It wasn't hard enough to knock him out like a boat oar or even Murdock's head, but it stunned him for a couple of seconds just enough to drop his arms at his sides and give Murdock the chance to get away.

"Well we'll see you in the morning, Grandpa," Face said as he picked up his bag, "I think it's time we went to our own room."

"Right-o," Murdock said as he picked up the portable radio and held it by his ear with one hand as he snapped his fingers in time with the music and followed him out the door. Jean picked up her bags and followed behind the men and they closed the door behind them on the way out.

Hannibal slipped back into character for a second and commented, "They're a nice bunch of kids, if not a little annoying."

"Wrong," B.A. replied, "They're _very_ annoying."

Hannibal puffed on his cigar a couple of times and said in response, "Well weren't we all at that age?" and laughed.

* * *

><p>Once in their own room, Jean went into the bathroom to change for the night, Face fell down on one of the beds and reveled in how soft the covers were and how tempting sleep was right about now, and Murdock still held his radio to his ear and danced in the corner facing the wall, scatting along with the music.<p>

"Murdock," Face tiredly called from the bed, "Aren't you coming to bed soon?"

"Oh in a while, Facey," her replied as he gyrated, "You know at the VA they took away my radio when they found out I was rewiring it to make contact with the extraterrestrials."

"That a fact?" Face asked, his eyes closed and already half asleep.

The bathroom door opened and Jean stepped out wearing a set of Murdock's pajamas with Scooby Doo on them, and Face saw her and noticed that out of the boots she always wore, she had suddenly become shorter. Jean went over to Murdock who was dancing with his back to her and said, "Okay Murdock, you ready to resume our dance?"

"Why sure," he replied as he put the radio down on the table and turned around with open arms, but she was three inches shorter than when he last saw her and he said directly over her head, "Hey where'd you go?"

"Down here," she replied, tugging on his shirt to pull him down to her.

"How'd you do that?" he asked.

"I'm the incredible shrinking woman," she said as they joined together and started dancing.

Face didn't say anything but he thought it was a little weird since there weren't really any heels on the boots she always wore. But he didn't give it much thought and instead he turned over on his side and pulled the pillow over his head, trying to drown out the music from the radio, and Murdock's singing as they resumed going around the room in circles. However, his attempt to fall asleep was interrupted when he felt somebody poking the back of his leg.

"What is it?" he asked as he lifted the pillow on one side.

"Come on, Facey, it's your turn," Murdock said.

"My turn for what?" he tiredly responded as he let the pillow fall again.

"To dance with her, remember?" Murdock said as he grabbed Face and started pulling him off the bed against his will.

Face tried to protest that he was too tired and didn't want to anymore, but the pilot didn't pay any attention to him and dragged him off of the bed, jerked him to his feet and all but threw him at Jean, who promptly caught him and started doing the same dance with Face, with him more or less of an active participant. After that, Face started to come around and he managed to get into the swing of things, and he made the comment to her, "You dance nicely, have you taken lessons?"

"Not a one in my life," she replied.

"Ah," he said as if that explained it, "Could've fooled me."

Murdock sat on the edge of the bed and watched them with a rapidly growing interest. His head rested on his hand and, when Face turned around and could see him, had a dreamy look on his face, but Face was almost afraid to ask what was going through his mind at that time.

"So tell me," Face coyly said to Jean, "Do you have any boyfriends back in the states?"

Jean shook her head and answered, "Not a one, how about you?"

"Uh…" he was left hanging on that one because he hadn't expected that question.

Murdock jumped in, and also jumped off the bed as he explained, "He don't need one, he's got me."

"That would explain a lot," she replied.

A few seconds after she'd said that, Face realized it and turned to her and asked, "Huh?"

He jerked his head from one side to the other to look at Murdock and Jean when they both started laughing, and then it hit him what the joke was. He laughed slightly to go along with it, but all he wanted to do was crawl under the covers and fall asleep and stay that way until tomorrow.

* * *

><p>It was the screaming that woke him up. Murdock shot up in bed gasping for breath again and felt his body covered in sweat. Immediately upon awakening he realized that his mind was a blank and he couldn't remember what his nightmare had been about. How then, he wondered, could he remember the screaming? Then it hit him that possibly the screaming he had heard that jolted him awake might've been his own, and he looked around the room to see if the others were awake. Turning to his left, he saw Face was still asleep in the other side of the bed, so he turned to the right and expected to see Jean the same way, but instead found her bed was empty, with the covers pushed back as if she'd left it in a hurry.<p>

"Huh?" he asked as he swung his legs out of bed and he got up and went over to the bed to make sure he was seeing things right.

Sure enough, the bed _had_ been slept in at some point in the night but there wasn't anybody there now, and the covers had practically been ripped off of it in Jean's attempt to get out of it. Murdock started looking around on the floor but it was too dark to see anything or anybody, so he quietly called out, "Saint? Where are you?"

He got an answer when he heard a sound coming from the bathroom. Making his way over in the dark, Murdock stood against the bathroom door and listened in; it sounded like Jean was choking. Ever so lightly, Murdock rapped on the door and said quietly, "Saint, are you alright?"

And then, absolute silence. For a few seconds there wasn't any noise whatsoever and Murdock was starting to consider what the possibilities were for that; then he heard the sound of her feet padding across the bathroom floor and coming to the door. He stepped back as he heard the lock being undone, and slowly it was pulled back and the blinding white light from the bathroom shone into the dark bedroom and Murdock put his hand over his eyes so he could see in, and what he saw shocked him.

Jean stood in the open doorway, still wearing the pajamas he'd given her; her hair stood up in damp spikes, her skin was as white as a ghost and covered in sweat, her eyes were a burning telltale red and she had one hand clamped over her mouth to muffle the noise she had been making. Her eyes were wide and Murdock thought she looked like she'd _seen_ a ghost.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

Jean's only answer was a step back away from the door, a sign for him to come inside, and he did.

* * *

><p>Hannibal lay in bed, restless after half an hour of trying to get back to sleep but with no success. He looked at his watch and was sure the time had to be wrong, but he found the watch was running perfectly as it usually did. Since he couldn't get to sleep, he did the only thing that made sense to him and called over to the occupant of the other bed, "B.A."<p>

"Eh?" the other man grunted in his sleep.

"B.A.," Hannibal repeated, louder this time.

"What?" B.A. asked as he sat up and opened his eyes.

"Are you awake?"

B.A. scowled over at him before hitting his head back against the pillows and laughing dryly, "Well I am now, Hannibal, what's up?"

"I don't know yet," Hannibal replied.

"What time is it?" B.A. asked.

"About 5:30," Hannibal answered.

"In the morning?" B.A. couldn't believe it.

"Yeah I know," Hannibal pushed back the covers and started to get up, "Something feels off. I'm going to go check on the others and see if they're up."

B.A. didn't get what was going on but he figured he ought to go with Hannibal incase his presence would be requested. He followed behind Hannibal, who quietly opened the door separating their room from the next and went in. It was still dark in the room, but it was light enough that both men could see something that struck them both as odd. In the bed furthest from them, Face remained asleep, his arms wrapped around the pillow under his head, and he was the only person in the bed. In the one nearest the door, Hannibal and B.A. were both surprised to see Murdock asleep, with Jean on top of him. Whatever had happened last night, it had ended with Jean falling asleep in his arms, using his chest as a pillow; her arms were stretched out and her hands had grabbed him by his upper arms, as if she was trying to ensure he didn't get up.

Neither man said anything as they stepped further into the room, but Hannibal went over to the bed and gently tried to pull Jean off of Murdock, but that only resulted in her subconsciously digging her nails into his skin to keep the contact from breaking, and Hannibal took the hint.

"Okay, okay," he said as he let go of her and instead brought the top sheet and bedspread up on both of them. He turned to B.A. and said quietly, "We'll let them sleep a while longer," he turned and pointed to the occupant of the other bed, "But this one I want to talk to."

Hannibal went over to the second bed and woke Face up, and as the younger man was taking his time in coming around and being fully alert, Hannibal gestured over to Murdock and Jean and asked, "What went on here last night?"

Face looked over to the other bed and told Hannibal, "I couldn't tell you that, they didn't invite _me_ over last night."

"Well what happened?" Hannibal asked him.

"You're talking to the wrong guy," Face said, "All I know is Murdock got up sometime in the night, she was in the bathroom, he went in to talk to her, and a while later they both came out and got in her bed and that's all I know."

Hannibal and B.A. exchanged very confused glances, apparently neither of them knew what to think about this, and the only thing more puzzling was how to handle the situation. Hannibal was left scratching his head on this one; ordinarily the colonel didn't tolerate any secrets within the team, but this involved someone else as well, and while he didn't like the idea of her keeping any secrets from them either, he realized just how delicate of a situation this could be. After giving it some thought he told B.A. that they would for the time being anyway, leave it alone; they would go back to their room and pretend nothing had happened, and wait and see if either Murdock or Jean said anything about it. If they did not, he added, they would wait until this whole ordeal was over and they had the girl back home before they grilled Murdock about it. B.A. only nodded and he and Hannibal went back to their room, and Face settled back in his bed and went back to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Hey Saint!" Murdock said later that morning when he returned to their room, and seeing nobody he called again, "Saint!"<p>

"What is it?" the bathroom door opened and Jean emerged dressed in one of the hotel's robes. Inside Murdock could hear the shower running and the steam was just starting to build up.

"Oh, the hotel laundry ain't got our clothes back yet," he told her, "And I know all your stuff was sent down last night, so I thought you could borrow some of mine until yours come up later."

Jean looked annoyed at this news but she nodded and said, "I appreciate it, Murdock, just get out anything you're not gonna need right away and set them out."

Murdock nodded and went over to his bag and dug out a pair of blue jeans that he seldom wore, and an E.T. T-shirt and, since he knew she wouldn't come out to get the clothes _after_ the shower, went to the bathroom door, opened it up and stepped in, and quickly came running back out as he was chased by the metal soap dish, Face's electric shaver, a pumice stone, and anything else that was in Jean's reach as she yelled at him, "No, on the bed! On-the-bed!"

"Don't get excited!" Murdock said in a heavy accent, on his way out he tripped over one of her bags but regained his footing, and chancing to turn around he said again, "Don't get excited!"

The screaming brought Face, Hannibal and B.A. in from the room next door, and all inquired to know what was going on. Murdock got right in their faces and said in an explosive tone that not only commanded everybody's attention but got it, "DON'T – PANIC!"

"What did you do now, fool?" B.A. asked him, already anticipating the worst.

"Nothing!" Murdock told them matter-of-factly, "I didn't do anything and I-did-not-see-anything!"

The bathroom door opened wider and Jean stepped out again, dressed in the bathrobe and said to the others, "I guess you can take his word for it, otherwise the first thing out of his mouth would've been…" she shook and brought her hands up to her face and screamed, "'Noooo, my eyes! I'm b-lind!'" and she laughed as she looked at them.

"Is everything alright, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked, not wanting to take any chances of there being any misunderstanding.

"Yeah everything's fine," she insisted as she pulled the robe tighter, "I was just getting a shower, and if you'll excuse me, I'm getting a draft out here."

Murdock had been sure to look down at the floor when she came out, and when he did he realized when he tripped over her bag, half of the stuff came spilling out of it again. So once she had gone back in the bathroom, he bent down and started putting her belongings back inside when he found a book in the middle of the clutter, and already opened to a page in the middle. Curiously, he read it and it brought a sober look to the pilot's face, and drew out from him a grave, "Oh no."

"What is it, Murdock?" Hannibal asked.

Murdock picked up the book and gave it to Hannibal at the page it was open to. Hannibal saw that it was a small black journal and the writing inside had been made with a black pen with blobbed ink, but he was able to read the passage that had gotten Murdock upset, and saw it had the morning's date on it.

"I had another dream about them last night," he read, "Smith, Baracus, Murdock and Peck, all in that order, lying alongside each other, in coffins. They were all dressed in their army uniforms. The army had finally caught them, and after a trial they were sentenced to execution by hanging, but as they were led out to the scaffold, Smith grabbed hold of the noose and said 'I have an announcement to make and would like everyone's attention, you will _not_ hang us here today, because we are _already_ dead.' They had taken cyanide pills and right after he said that, they took effect and one by one they all fell down dead. I've tried everything I could to get them off of this case. I told them to go back, I told them to stay out of this, to leave me alone, but they wouldn't listen. What none of these idiots realize is that as long as they stick around me, they are _my_ damn liability; if anything happens to them while they're here wasting their time trying to help me, it's going to be their blood on my hands, and I can't let that happen. The world _needs_ the A-Team, it does _not_ need me, especially once this mission is over."

Face was horrified by what Hannibal had read, and B.A. looked like he was having trouble keeping his breakfast down. Now a lot of things were starting to become clear. Hannibal slowly closed the journal and told Murdock, "Get her bags, dump them all out, go through everything! Look in everything! I want to make sure she's not holding out on us with a second batch of pills."

It didn't take Murdock any time to get the three bags Jean had brought with her, and dumped the contents out of each one on the floor. All four men grabbed everything, opened up everything, and checked for anything that looked even remotely suspicious; in total they found three guns, a few hundred rounds of ammunition, a pocketknife, a switchblade, a box cutter, a set of handcuffs with keys included, a few books, a couple of small framed photographs, a first aid kit, a large black bottle of peroxide, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a box of matches, a lighter, the rogue gallery of photographs of Brutus's kills, and oddly enough, a couple strings of firecrackers, smoke flares, and a few bottle rockets.

"No pills," Face concluded when they had searched through everything she possessed.

Hannibal had even gone to the point of removing the lids from the peroxide and alcohol and anything in the first aid kit and sniffing it to make sure it matched. "And I'm guessing no poison either," he added, "So maybe we lucked out."

"You really think this kid is going to kill herself when this is over?" Face asked.

"She certainly seems to be hinting at it, Face," Hannibal told him, "The world needs us to survive but not her, not once her mission is over. If it's not implying suicide, what is it? You heard her talk, she's convinced already that she's damned and there's no hope for her, so what would be the point in trying to delay the inevitable anyway when the end result is all going to be the same?"

Murdock had been very quiet during all of this because now, what occurred last night was starting to make sense. He hadn't been able to get Jean to tell him what was wrong last night, but he hadn't pushed the issue either; he had realized the screaming that had woken him up was her coming out of her own nightmare, and at the time he guessed that it had to do with the murder of the other Jean Rhodes and all the other recruits she had witnessed. He'd managed to get her calmed down and though she wouldn't say anything to him, he tried to be reassuring as he told her that it was just a dream, it was over, everything was going to be alright. At any other time he might've tried to make her laugh and take her mind off what was going on; but he could appreciate the gravity of the situation and knew now was hardly the time for that.

He had walked her back out to the bedroom and got her in bed when it hit him that staying with her for the night would probably be a good idea. He certainly didn't mind, he liked having somebody to sleep with; for some reason the doctors at the V.A. never approved of the idea of him having a roommate, so it could get pretty lonely at night when he knew nobody would be coming to bust him out. And when he _did_ get out, anytime they had to stop off somewhere for the night he tried to take advantage of being able to bunk with Face; it was always more fun having somebody staying with him for the night, though several times B.A. about crashed through the wall to shut them up so he could sleep.

Jean hadn't seemed to mind either, in fact, as soon as Murdock had laid down in the bed, she practically crawled on top of him and wouldn't let go of him. He hadn't thought anything of that either; being alone for six months with no one to trust or help in Vietnam would've been bad enough, that was a war zone, disappearing into the brush was a way of life, a method of survival, but in the middle of civilization! It was just unthinkable, and yet somehow this kid had done it, also in the name of survival, also in the name of justice, but was it worth it? That was the question that kept bothering him. Unfortunately he couldn't come up with any good answers.

But now he thought he knew the real reason why she had latched onto him in the night; if she could feel him, if she could hear him breathing, then that was real, and he was real and he was alive and if even one of the A-Team was alive, then that broke the dream. He remembered now that she had turned her head so her ear was directly on his chest, listening to his heart, proving that he was alive; when it had happened he was reminded of how it was supposed to be a method for soothing young children and puppies to sleep, the comforting sound of a mother's heartbeat, and if a mother wasn't available some people substituted with the steady beat of an alarm clock. He'd tried that with Billy when he first got the dog, it didn't seem to do any good; Billy didn't like the alarm clock, he also preferred the sound of a real heart thumping in its chest, _his_ heart in _his_ chest. Was it him? He thought that he had known or at least had some clue last night as to what the problem was, and before they fell asleep he'd put his arm around her and whispered that everything would be alright, but now he realized that he didn't have a single clue at the time what was going on.

Damnedest thing he could think of; this was their life, their job, they took on dangerous missions all the time to help people, and she was more concerned with their survival than her own. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she _would've_ done well in the army, _if_ she could've gotten along with the others.


	11. Chapter 11

Everything had been put back in Jean's bags more or less the way she had left them, and Hannibal and B.A. retreated to their own room for the time being. Face and Murdock stayed in the room, each leaning against the headboards on the beds; Face flipping through the channels on TV but not paying attention to anything he saw, and Murdock looked equally zoned out and absentmindedly stroked his hand back and forth as he petted Billy beside him on the bed. When they heard the water shut off, Murdock signaled for Billy to be quiet and picked him up and hid him under the bed. The bathroom door opened and a curtain of steam made its way out as Jean emerged dressed in Murdock's clothes, and made a beeline over to one of her bags and dug out the bottle of peroxide and sat down on the foot of Murdock's bed to apply a new splash of it. Face turned and watched her as she poured it in her hands and smacked her cheeks with it, and he couldn't help remarking, "What're you doing? You don't slap peroxide on like aftershave."

"Why not?" she replied, "That's how I've always done it."

"If you're going to do that, do it in the bathroom," Face told her, "Over the sink."

Murdock looked over to Face; Jean had no way of knowing it but Murdock could tell that there was no energy in Face's whine and that he was only saying it out of a habit of complaining about any little thing. He wasn't even looking at her anymore, he just stared ahead at the TV on the other side of the room. Murdock turned and looked at Jean to watch her response; she didn't pay Face any mind and just ignored him entirely, as far as Murdock could tell, she didn't have any idea that they knew.

So that was why she had acted the way she did towards them. It hadn't made much sense, based on how highly her parents had spoken about her and how joining the military had gone against everything she ever seemed to stand for, how she could possibly become the bitter person that she was. Of course he knew what they all knew, what she had been a witness to would be reason enough to do that to a person; war didn't just kill people, it killed innocence, it killed hope, it killed everything good that existed in the people who survived, and that's exactly what this was, it was a war, a war against the men who trained the soldiers who fought for their own country. That in itself was a mind blowing thought that he still couldn't fully wrap his head around.

But even so, they had all noticed every snide remark she made towards Hannibal and anybody else when they got in her way or interrupted her plans. And all the traps she had set for them; the bomb, the ipecac in the soda, the trip wires at the house, never anything really dangerous, just enough to give somebody a start, and for most people it would've been enough for them to reconsider their position. But it hadn't worked on them, they'd stayed after this kid despite all the things she did, and tried to do, and now they knew why she had done them. It wasn't merely that she had become so venomous by the experiences of the last six months; she treated them as horribly as she did in a desperate effort to make them drop the case, to get away from her, because she believed by doing so, she was protecting them from being killed.

And it didn't make any sense. How could she possibly think their lives would be in anymore danger now than they had been in the last 10 years? Sure, it was riskier with the military being involved, but so what? It was a safe bet that none of these men who were involved with the trafficking ring had any connection to Lynch or anybody on his side. And they had all agreed they wouldn't bring it up with her, but because of that, they would never know what the answer was, they could only guess; unless something happened that she suddenly decided to bring it up with one of them, but that was unlikely. Murdock knew that Hannibal had been on the lookout from the get-go for any sign that Jean might be suicidal, even checking her wrists when they'd first arrived at the hotel back in Ohio; and a search of all her belongings had turned up nothing that would suggest it, but he knew the colonel was still concerned with the idea. As for himself, he really didn't have any idea, he did not think that Jean had it in her to kill herself, that she actually would, and he hoped he was right.

"So what's the plan for today?" Jean asked as she put the bottle back in her bag and laid out on the other side of the bed beside Murdock.

"Not much," Face answered, "It's going to rain later so there's no point in us going out to the pool."

"Just as well," Jean replied as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, "I'm tired."

And within five minutes she was out like a light. Murdock reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder, figuring that maybe the contact would ward off any further nightmares for the time being.

Tomorrow David Grant would be coming to this hotel and then he would be going to meet up with the final link of the chain, Jack Saunders, although by now everybody was starting to think the same thing; with so many people dead, wouldn't it only make sense for the two remaining members to build the whole thing up again? That was something they had to find out. They had to end this once and for all. Jean was right, they couldn't bring down the whole trafficking business but they could sure as hell try and end it here where the military was concerned.

* * *

><p>The rains came in the early afternoon and poured down with a vengeance; there wasn't anything for anybody to do except sit around and wait for something to happen. Jean had slept through lunch and Face and Murdock tried to be quiet so they didn't wake her; Murdock managed to slip off the bed without disturbing her and instead moved over to the other one with Face and they watched TV for a while. Around 1:30 Jean started to come around and as she woke up with her face buried in the pillow, she turned, and froze.<p>

"Murdock," she said, quietly and somberly, though she was facing opposite them.

The two men looked over to the other bed and Murdock said, "What is it?"

Jean still didn't move from where she lay and she said in the same quiet tone, "Your dog is staring at me."

"Billy, I told you to stay off the bed," Murdock got up and went over to the other bed.

"Get him off," Jean told him as if they were dealing with a poisonous snake instead of an invisible dog, "Get him away from me."

Murdock was in front of her and started to reach for the edge of the bed, but he stopped, and he looked at Jean and told her, "No."

That surprised Jean and also Face, who couldn't help but watch this with the utmost curiosity to see what was going to happen now.

Murdock knelt down beside the bed and said to Jean, "Billy's a good dog, he ain't gonna bite you, now…" he pointed to the space where the dog apparently was, "Animals know about people, they know who to trust and who not to trust, Billy obviously likes you, so I want you to be nice to him too…go ahead, pet him, you'll see."

Jean pulled herself up and turned over so she was half sitting up; slowly, reluctantly, she reached her hand out with the palm up, the way people do to let a dog get familiar with their scent. Face couldn't believe what he was seeing, he couldn't believe in the first place that Jean was actually able to see Billy, but he really couldn't believe what he was watching now. Jean still looked like she expected the dog to bite her, but when nothing happened, she raised her hand and slowly started to pet the dog's head; and Face took note of how her hand was shaking as she did it, as if she were encountering a Doberman pinscher instead of whatever kind of dog Billy was, she _was_ expecting for Billy to bite her. He just _knew_ that if B.A. were here to see this now, he would swear they both were crazy.

A smile formed on Murdock's face that quickly grew into an ear-to-ear grin and he seemed pleased by what was happening. "See, I told you Billy liked you." He petted Billy on the head and added, "And I told you she'd learn to like you too, boy."

"Murdock, I got a question," Jean told him as she sat up against the headboard, "What's the matter with B.A.?"

"Oh nothing, he's just an angry mudsucker," he explained, "I've told him before he needs to learn to chill out."

"No, I mean why is he always saying that there isn't any dog?" Jean asked, "Why can't he see Billy?"

"Oh," Murdock replied, "Well you see, to some people, like B.A., Billy is invisible, he can't see Billy so he doesn't believe Billy exists…of course _we_ know better, don't we?"

"That's right," Jean nodded, "Us _normal_ people."

Face couldn't help laughing at that one.

* * *

><p>The rain had carried on all afternoon before slowly dying off, building up into a storm that hit that night. Outside the hotel the rain beat down in sheets, ever few seconds lightning lit up the rooms, followed by thunder that varied between low rumbles and earth shattering booms. It wasn't the storm that was keeping B.A. awake but it didn't help either. He'd spent the last half hour rolling around in the bed trying to get to sleep but all with no success, whereas in the other bed Hannibal had been out cold for over an hour already. Trying again, B.A. flopped over onto his side and thought a different position might help, but as he started to close his eyes, he could hear something other than just the storm. At first he wasn't sure what it was, but the noise gradually became louder and he realized that it was somebody talking in the room next door. The voices grew louder and he could hear somebody giggling and Murdock carrying on in one of his crazy voices.<p>

"Oh no," he tiredly grumbled as his one open eye rolled in his head.

He was only slightly surprised to hear the voice that asked, "What is it, B.A?" he should've known Hannibal wouldn't be asleep if he wasn't.

"That crazy fool's at it again, Hannibal," B.A. groaned.

Hannibal sat up and also heard the muffled talking next door, but he only grinned and replied as he lay back down, "Ah, let them have their fun, tomorrow things are going to start to get ugly."

As far as B.A. was concerned, they already were with Murdock in tow.

* * *

><p>Face, Murdock and Jean had still been up when the storm hit. It had come out of nowhere and the first BOOM that made the room shake had all three of them diving under the bed on an impulse. Face and Jean were the first ones to show their faces again and crawl halfway out, Murdock hadn't followed them. Instead he had crawled out under the other side of the bed, and they could hear a low, labored breathing and they turned and saw the dark figure rising up on the other side. Murdock had slipped on a black robe Face had in his suitcase and kept one side of it pulled up over his nose and mouth like Dracula with his cape.<p>

"Murdock, what're you doing?" Face asked as they stood up and saw him.

He shook his head, "Not Murdock," he said in a low voice, lowering the robe he bore a toothy, sinister grin that showed off his teeth and he said with a slight hiss, "Count Orlok!" He went over to Face and added, "I need…ba-lood! And if I don't get it I shall be forced to…to…" he grabbed Face by the neck of his shirt and said, in one of his more normal voices, "Give you a hickey!" And he lowered his mouth, wrapped his lips around a section of the flesh on Face's neck, but instead of biting him he blew razzberries on his neck and made Face laugh, a little too loud for their comfort with the people next door but when the wall didn't explode they took it as a sign that B.A. hadn't heard them.

"Shhhh," Jean told them, struggling not to laugh, and in a dead-on Elmer Fudd impersonation she said, "Be vewy vewy quiet, the big angry mudsucker's trying to sleep!"

They all fell against each other and sank to the floor laughing with their hands covering their mouths.

Murdock had found a flashlight and used it to make animal shadow puppets on the wall, with all the sound effects included, the problem was Face and Jean couldn't figure out what he was doing, things like the dodo bird and a three-toed-sloth.

"He really _is_ nuts, isn't he?" Jean murmured to Face.

"I resent that," Murdock told her, "I was promoted to condiments last month."

When they gave up on guessing his animals, Murdock's next idea was they tell scary stories, and he went first but wound up being put out of commission halfway through the ghost story because he kept getting too loud and might wake up the others. Face and Jean tackled him and pulled him down on the bed and Jean picked up the pillows and buried his face under them; not hard enough to smother him, just to muffle his incessant jabbering.

"Alright," Face said as he turned the flashlight on her, "You go next if you think you can do any better."

"Gladly," Jean said as she got off of Murdock and stood in the middle of the room, "This is one I heard a long time ago, so forgive me if it ain't perfect."

"Just get on with it," Face coyly remarked, deliberately shining the flashlight in her eyes to mess with her.

Jean put her hand up and when the light was lowered she slowly got around to starting and said, "Well, there was a young woman who always attended the early Sunday morning services at the church. One morning when she was still in bed she could hear the bells ringing, so she hurried up and got dressed, put on her coat and hat and ran out the door so she wouldn't be late. It was cold and still dark out because it was late in the year, and as she hurriedly walked to the church she noticed that there wasn't anybody else around; as she walked, she walked alone, there wasn't any traffic, nobody walking by, nobody coming or going, the whole town seemed to be empty. She got to the church that stood next to an old cemetery, and went in, and the lights were low but she found a spot and got seated in a pew towards the back. She looked around, waiting for the priest to start the sermon, and she didn't recognize anybody there. Finally she turned and saw _one_ woman she recognized…but then she remembered that this woman had died last month."

Face turned to the small gasping sound on his right and said, "Murdock, I think you sprung a leak."

"Sorry," Murdock whispered in response, his jaw still dropped and his eyes wide as he listened to every word.

"When the woman looked around again, all the men and women had turned to skeletons and ghosts in suits and dresses. And she knew that they were angry at her because a living person had intruded upon the service for the dead. The dead woman turned to her and told her if she valued her life, that she would leave right after the benediction. When she did, she grabbed her coat and hat and tried to move towards the door before anybody spotted her. But as she neared the door, she could hear the others getting up and starting to follow after her, so she took off running, but she ran behind the church, through the cemetery, and it was there that the ghosts started to catch up with her."

Jean went over to the bed and grabbed Face by the arms and jerked him to his feet and she dug her nails into his skin and told him, "One of them ripped the hat off of her head, another one tore her coat off, and she could feel the long bony tips of the skeletons' fingers digging into her skin as they yelled at her to get out, to never return." She scratched him and left long red marks on his arms like he'd been mauled by a dog, he let out a small gasp of initial shock but otherwise didn't make any noise. "She finally reached the cemetery's gate and ran out and got back on the main road and ran for home, and by this time the sun was starting to come up and everything appeared to be normal again. When the woman got home she started to wonder if she had just been dreaming, and she got undressed and went back to bed. When she woke up later, she realized she couldn't find her coat or her hat anywhere, so, terrified of what she might find but already suspecting that it was true, she returned to the cemetery and found her coat and hat discarded by one of the tombstones, torn entirely to shreds."

Murdock let out another small gasp and they looked and saw him with a hand clenched around his throat. Jean laughed and shook her head dismissively and told Face, "It's too bad it ain't true, if we could get Lynch and his boys in a church like that and lock them in, and let nature of the dead take its course, then that would be the end of that problem and without blood on anybody's hands."

Murdock got both their attention when he started making a low throaty howling sound and he placed his arms up and straight out in front of him and started to walk like a zombie murmuring, "Out, out, out damn spot out!"

"Na," Jean shook her head, "Spot don't want to go out, let the dog stay inside."

The whole room was lit up by a blinding white flash of lightning and only a second later they felt the room shake with another earth shattering BOOM of thunder, and this time they could hear the electricity crackling in the room. Face felt somebody on either side of him and started to find it hard to breathe and he let out a choked gasp as he pushed them away from him.

As it got later in the night, Face made the suggestion that they turned in, and nobody argued although Murdock couldn't help asking 'into what?' As they got ready for bed, Murdock debated with himself over where he should sleep and decided he would bunk with Face and let Jean have the other bed; he knew that if anything happened during the night he could just hop over from one to the other. When Face was in the bathroom changing for the night, Murdock went over to Jean's bed and just made sure that she didn't need him to stay with her for the night. Jean was already half asleep and shook her head and told him everything was fine; all the same Murdock couldn't resist tucking her in for the night and emphasizing getting her in nice and tight so she couldn't escape. As Face returned to the bedroom, Murdock picked up his Bogey Bear and went over to the other bed, but Jean sat up and called over to him in a whispered voice, "Murdock…Murdock!"

Both men came over to the bed and Murdock, still clutching the bear in one arm asked, "What is it?"

"I got it from a good source that when little bears are bad," Jean pointed to Bogey, "They get sent to America for boys and girls to play with, so if I were you, I'd keep an eye on Bogey, no telling what he might do."

Murdock looked shocked and he looked down at the teddy bear he was holding and held Bogey up and looked him up and down and asked, "You wouldn't try anything now, would you, Bogey?" and shook his head and shook the bear's head too.

* * *

><p>Face didn't know what time it was but he had a good idea it was still too early. He rolled over in bed and brought a pillow up over his head to try and block out the noise of the cartoons on TV, but he could still hear Murdock and Jean laughing. Finally he forced his eyes open and turned over and looked at the two of them sitting on the floor watching The New Three Stooges cartoons on TV.<p>

"I thought they took that show off the air years ago," Face murmured as he brought the pillow back up to his face, "And kept it off where it belonged."

All he got in response was heckling from the peanut gallery.

"Come on Facey," Murdock said as he gestured to the TV, "This combines the two best things _on_ television, cartoons _and_ the Three Stooges, what could possibly be better than that?"

"Yeah," Jean agreed, "I grew up on these."

"Who could ever forget," Murdock continued, and pointing his two index fingers like pistols, said in a mock gruff voice, "Get out of Town by Sundown Brown!"

"And Tim Bear!" Jean added.

"That's right!" Murdock said, "And remember the abominable snowman?" Murdock got up on his feet and hands and hopped up and down like a monkey and added, "Will you play with me? I'm fun, will you play with me?"

"And he could turn into anything," Jean recalled, "A dancing bear, a penguin."

And both of them said in a bad Ted Lewis impersonation, "Ye-s sir, is e-verybody happy?"

"Not everybody," Face replied from where he lay on the bed.

"Aw come on, Face," Murdock said.

"Yeah," Jean reached up behind her and slapped her hand against his behind with only the sheet and his pajamas between them. Face shot up in bed with a yelp and turned over.

"Alright, alright!" he said as he threw back the covers and jumped to his feet, "I'm up, I'm up, I'm up! Alright?"

"We heard you the first time, now shut up fool!" B.A.'s voice rang through the wall.

"What time is it, anyway?" Face asked.

"6:30," Murdock answered, "We've been up a long time waiting for you to come around."

Face ran a hand through his hair that was standing up in parts and he grabbed his clothes for the day and went into the bathroom to get a shower.

"How do you put up with him?" Jean asked Murdock as she went over to the TV and changed the channel to the real Three Stooges.

"Aw honey he grows on you in time, like a big wart," Murdock told her, "After a while you learn to love him."

"And the others?" Jean asked.

"Oh B.A.'s really easy to like," Murdock said, "He may be an angry mudsucker but he's a nice guy, he just don't like showing it."

"And Smith?"

"Hmmm," Murdock squeezed his eyes almost shut and looked up like he was trying to think, "Hannibal's a bit more of an acquired taste. You have to get to know him before you really start to like him."

"Yeah well," Jean moved back towards him on the floor by the bed, "I doubt I'll be around long enough for that."

Murdock placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze as he told her, "I know he can come off as a hard case sometimes but I know he likes you. He's just worried about you."

Jean turned and looked at him like he had broken out in Latin, "You serious?"

Now it was Murdock's turn to look surprised, in one of his more serious tones he went into a miniature explosion and said, "Well of _course_ he's worried about you, we all are, we're trying to make sure we get you back to your parents in one piece, until we do we're responsible for anything that happens to you."

Jean rolled her eyes and laughed and told him, "You're not responsible for me, not any of you, I'm 22 years old, I've been responsible for myself for the last four years."

"Now see," Murdock pointed at her, "You think like that because you _are_ 22, when you get a little older you realize it doesn't work like that. _Any_ time we're on a rescue mission we assume full responsibility for the hostages until we return them to their families."

"Well it's a lot of work and tell you the truth Murdock, I doubt the end result is going to be worth it," Jean commented, "I want to make it clear I have _every_ intention of coming out of this mess alive, but then what? After what I've done, how do I _possibly_ go home again?"

Murdock reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled her towards him so her head rested on his shoulder as he answered, "Don't worry about it, we're going to figure something out, we always do."

Jean yawned and closed her eyes for a minute and groggily responded, "Thanks, Murdock, I sure appreciate it."

Murdock leaned over and kissed Jean on the top of her head and quietly replied, "Anytime, darling, anytime."

They'd managed to luck out last night. He had thought for sure that they could see a repeat of the previous night's events; but he never heard a sound out of Jean all night. Though he wasn't sure exactly what _had_ happened during the night, but he woke up before five and found her sitting at the foot of the bed, just staring straight ahead at the wall even though the whole room was pitch dark. It seemed that she had been awake for a while but she insisted nothing was wrong. So, it could have been another nightmare, or perhaps just anxiety in anticipation of the fact that today Grant would be checking into the hotel here, and they had to keep their cover going as the eccentric Tuttle family, herself included; everybody had a part to play and they had to make sure nobody blew their cover. Whatever it was, he was glad that their cover called for them to be brother and sister because it gave him a perfect excuse to stay close to her and make sure she was alright.

* * *

><p>Murdock and Jean had already been dressed when Face woke up, when he came out of the bathroom half an hour later he was also ready for the day, dressed in an unorthodox manner compared to his usual taste of fine suits; instead he wore a pair of blue jeans, white sneakers and a baseball T-shirt.<p>

"The next time we go in as a family," he said as he looked down at his attire, "I say we make it some long lost relative of John D. Rockefeller."

"What's wrong with it?" Jean asked as she looked him up and down, which was mostly up since she and Murdock were still on the floor.

"Nothing," he replied, "I just prefer something a little more…"

"Oh Face is a very _fancy_ man," Murdock tried to explain.

"Oh I'll bet he is," Jean almost laughed, and Face realized she heard something different from what Murdock had said.

"It just so happens," Face told her, "That I am relied upon to get anything and everything that the team requires for all of our plans. And I'll tell you something, it is a lot easier to con people when you look like you just walked off the cover of GQ instead of like you just escaped from a hillbilly family reunion."

"Is that why they call you Face?" Jean asked, "Because you place so much importance on your appearance?"

"Well it don't hurt none," Murdock said as they got up.

Jean grabbed the front of Face's shirt and ran her hands up it until she reached the collar, then her hands forewent his face entirely and went up to his hair and messed it up.

"Very funny," he replied, and brought one of his own hands up and tried to repay the favor, causing her hair to also stand up in places. Jean kept a smirk on her face but didn't let it end there, she brought her hand back up and lightly hit him in the nose. Face brought his hand up in a fist and started to draw it back but let it go, deciding instead that, though he'd probably hate himself for it later, he would enjoy it now, and he put his hand on her face and gave her a light shove back against Murdock. Their little disagreement quickly grew but just before they could lunge for each other's throats, they heard something going on in the room next door, followed by Hannibal's decrepit old man voice warning the 'children' that they had better be decent.

"What's going on?" Jean asked him.

"I don't know," Face replied as they scrambled together and ran their hands through their hair to fix it and make themselves as presentable as possible.

A few seconds later the door opened and Hannibal was wheeled in by B.A. with another man following them.

"This, dear grandchildren," Hannibal gestured to the middle aged man carrying a medical bag, "Is the hotel doctor, he seems to think that somebody's sick here." Hannibal looked to the three of them and pointed to Face and said, "Dirk, you haven't been drinking the wine vinegar from the kitchen again, have you?" He turned back to the doctor and commented, "Nice boy but not too bright."

Face managed to keep a straight face as he replied, "No, Grandpa, we're all fine."

"Oh that's nice," Hannibal grumbled with his head down, "I was telling the doctor how _talented_ you three are, how _bright_ you were in school..."

Face was already dreading where this one was going, what was Hannibal trying to pull off now? Then he realized that Hannibal had said something else and he had missed it, "What was that, Grandpa?"

"I said why don't you recite something to the nice gentleman?" Hannibal repeated.

"Uh…" Face's mind officially went into lockdown at that moment and he couldn't think of a thing. That was when Murdock jumped in.

"I have one, I have one," he said in one of a dozen voices he used when he did something resembling theatrics and he leapt into the center of the room and stood straight and pounded on his chest as he said, "Little fly upon the wall, ain't you got no clothes at all?"

"No no no, Dwight," Hannibal told him, "Not _that_ one."

"Oh."

Face and Jean stood on either side of him, and it was Jean who spoke up next and said, "I've got one." And with a big smirk on her face she said, gesturing wildly, "Little fly upon the track, a train came along and broke his back."

And something must've clicked because all three of them jumped at the same time screaming, 'whoo-whoo!' and grabbed onto each other like a conga line and marched around screaming like a train whistle. Behind the doctor, B.A. was struggling to keep a straight face, though Hannibal managed very well and remarked dryly, "They're nice kids, but you can understand now why Ted Healy kept a loaded gun under _his_ children's pillows."

A few minutes later when the doctor left the room and went back out into the hall, Face, Murdock and Jean collapsed on the bed and she asked Hannibal, "What the hell was that about?"

"I'm not sure," Hannibal replied, "Somebody came nosing around asking a bunch of questions. I don't know _who's_ responsible for it, but I get the feeling that Lynch isn't too far behind on this."

"He never gives up, does he?" Jean asked.

"If he did he wouldn't be in the army," Hannibal told her, "Not to worry though, he's got more men than brains."

Jean folded her arms against her chest and said, "You sound _very_ sure of yourself, Smith."

"I'm always sure of myself," Hannibal replied.

"That's why he's the leader," Murdock explained.

"How could Lynch possibly have found out so quickly where you are?" Jean asked.

"Oh he's part bloodhound, you can be sure of that," Face said.

"Well, he definitely _looks_ the part," Jean agreed.


	12. Chapter 12

Once again, before David Grant's arrival, Hannibal and Face had taken the liberty to sneak into Grant's reserved hotel room and bug the room and the phone since they highly suspected he would be getting in touch with Saunders again upon arrival. All that was left now was to wait for the guest of honor to show up; Hannibal waited down in the lobby in a younger disguise to remain inconspicuous, and the others stayed in their rooms and watched the time pass. Face, Murdock and Jean sat around in their room and waited for the signal from Hannibal that Grant had entered the hotel, and they might as well have been waiting for an execution to take place. Nobody talked, nobody moved from where they sat, they just stared at the clock and at each other and waited; Jean remained seated on the foot of the bed with one foot shaking and one fingernail permanently being chewed on, alternating through all ten of them.

After an hour of watching the clock, Murdock couldn't take the silence anymore; without a word to anybody, he got up from his chair and went into the next room where B.A. was waiting. Jean and Face looked at each other and without saying a word they questioned what he was up to, and they got something of an answer a minute later when they heard B.A. screaming at Murdock. They both sprang to their feet and ran in to see what was going on now and were just in time to see B.A. wrap his hands around Murdock's throat and throttle him. Face looked around the room for something hard to hit B.A. with and Jean managed to squeeze herself in between B.A. and Murdock, forcing him to let go of Murdock.

"Murdock, what did you do now?" Face asked.

"I caught this crazy fool going through my stuff," B.A. told him.

Jean noticed that while B.A. was looking at Face, Murdock had slipped something into his jacket, zipped it up and as nonchalantly as was possible for Howling Mad Murdock, slipped out of the room while B.A.'s back was turned. Once he was gone, Jean went over to B.A. and jabbed him on the shoulder to get his attention, and when he turned around she got as much in his face as was possible for her and said, "You can yell the roof off of this place…"

"He will," Face warned her.

But she cut him off and continued, "But I told you before when I first came here with you morons, all I've seen Murdock do is try to help and all you do is try to wring his neck. But you don't fool me. B.A., if anything bad were to ever happen to Murdock, you'd feel terrible and you know it."

B.A. snorted and replied, "I doubt that."

When they managed to get away from B.A. and back to their own room they saw Murdock back in the chair, with his shoes off, one foot brought up over the other leg and he was using a large wood file on it.

"What're you doing?" Face asked.

"I got a callus I'm trying to get rid of," Murdock answered.

"That's what you stole from his room?" Jean asked, then she turned to Face and asked, "What's he got a wood file for anyway?"

Face just shrugged in response. Murdock just kept his head down to hide the smirk on his face. For the moment anyway he had been able to break the tension and end the haunting silence between them. Fifteen minutes later the phone in their room rang and Face answered it; he nodded his head at everything Hannibal said and only got out a few 'uh-huh's and 'yeah's before hanging up.

"He's here, isn't he?" Jean asked.

"Yes," Face answered, "He is…Hannibal just saw him entering an elevator and he's coming up to this floor now."

Old habits died hard, as soon as Jean heard that she sprang for the door but Murdock blocked the way and grabbed her and pinned her arms down so she couldn't fight them.

"Calm down," Face told her, "Hannibal told you before, we're going to get this guy, but he had to lead us to Saunders first, get it?"

"I can't, I can't!" Jean replied as she struggled against Murdock's hold, "He's going to suffer like they all suffered!"

Murdock kept one arm wrapped around her and with the other lightly brushed his hand against her face as he went into a mantra of shushing sounds, alternating between that and some kind of gibberish that neither of them could understand.

"Murdock, let me go!" Jean told him.

"Ah, not until you calm down first," he told her as he continued stroking her cheek and remained calm and spoke in a soothing tone.

Face couldn't help but interject, "Murdock, I don't think it's going to work, she's not a dog."

"Oh be quiet, Face," Murdock said sarcastically, and in one of his deeper voices with a thicker accent he added, "The sounds that soothe the savage beast work on either animal or human."

"Alright, alright," Jean gave in, "You win, now let go of me."

They could tell the fight was genuinely out of her, Murdock let go of her arms and stroked her hair and repeated in a new mantra, "Good, good, good, good-good-good."

"Murdock, what're you doing now?" Face asked.

"Uh," Murdock covered Jean's ears and said, "It's kind of a private joke, Face, remember the Bad-Man?"

It took a few seconds for Face to realize what Murdock was talking about, something else from those cartoons they were watching that morning; a little boy who would turn into a horrible monster anytime someone said the word 'bad' around him, and then return to a nice little boy whenever they said 'good'. Face got what the gist of it was; when Jean threw herself at the door and was screaming, Face had a good idea that this was Brutus's character starting to shine through. Brutus was a self made secondary personality that Jean was fully and consciously aware of, meaning he could only be an invented persona; that was one thing he'd learned from all of Murdock's jibber-jabber from being in the VA all those years, people who had multiple personalities were never aware of each other existing. Jean _knew_ about Brutus because she had created him, but Face was starting to wonder if she was still in control of him; her voice when she spoke about Grant suffering as they all had suffered was not Jean's normal voice. It was like somebody else was speaking through her, an evil force, perhaps even a man, but whatever it was, it didn't sound like her at all.

"Uh, Jean," Face said, "Uh…Murdock and I have to go talk to B.A. for a minute, in private, are you…going to be okay here by yourself?"

"Oh yeah, sure," she answered as she sat down.

"Good," Face replied, realizing after he'd said it that without being aware of it, he'd said it as a precaution. If there was a word that triggered Brutus's appearance, he hoped he didn't stumble over it accidentally.

Murdock went with Face over to the door and before they went in he called through the wall, "Yo B.A. we're coming in, you decent you big angry mudsucker?"

"What kind of fool question is that?" B.A. asked.

"Ironically enough," Face started to say as he opened the door, but didn't finish the thought because it was just too easy.

"What you want, fool?" B.A. asked as they came into the room.

Face closed the door behind them and said quietly so Jean couldn't overhear, "Nothing really…can you listen at this door and make sure she doesn't go out the other way?"

B.A. didn't get what was going on but he did, he went over to the door and listened while Face and Murdock went over to the other side of the room to talk.

"Listen Murdock, with all you know about mental disorders," Face said, "There's something I want to know."

"Shoot."

"Is it possible for a person to consciously create a second personality?" Face asked, "Like a split personality, is it possible for somebody to create a second person within themselves and the two sides trade off like a genuine multiple personality?"

Murdock seemed to seriously consider the question and gave a surprisingly on topic answer, "A person can willfully and intentionally create a secondary persona, not a personality. They'll know the persona exists, they may try and shift the blame for anything they did onto the second persona, they may even start to think in terms of being two people, but the dominant original person will always be aware of the persona's existence. To know the second personality exists defeats the purpose of split or multiple personality, they each exist individually and are oblivious of one another's existences."

"What you thinking about, Faceman?" B.A. asked.

"Brutus," Face looked to the other man, "Hannibal gave us the heads up that Grant's here and she was ready to fly through the door to get her hands on him, but I don't think it was really her."

B.A. looked from Face to Murdock and asked, "What're you jabbering about now?"

"Okay, B.A., remember The Exorcist?" Murdock asked, and waved from one hand to the other as he said, "Sweet little girl, Satan incarnate, they trade off, remember that? That's what we saw a minute ago, if her head snapped clear around she couldn't have switched any faster than she did."

"Brutus isn't just a name to hang the responsibility of those murders on," Face told them, "I think she's really made him a part of her." He looked to Murdock and asked him, "You got any idea about it?"

"Well," Murdock thought, "People often create a second persona when they do something they don't want to be held accountable for. And Joan of Arc would never brutally kill anybody for any reason, so she had to create a second persona to take responsibility for the killings. Brutus only comes out when she feels it is necessary to kill somebody, so…six months is a long time for anything to happen, by this time it could be a simple reflex for her."

"Oh well that's great," Face sarcastically remarked with a note of panic in his voice.

"I think," Murdock continued, "It's definitely possible that she created Brutus partly to have somebody else to blame for the murders she committed…but it wouldn't surprise me also if she created him as a form of protection."

"What're you babbling about, fool?" B.A. wanted to know.

"Well I'm only guessing but if the first time she killed somebody there was a struggle and she thought she might not get out of it alive, it could be she created the persona of Brutus as a sort of protector. You know, he is not a dominant personality but he comes very close; his only function is to attack and kill, he is a second person entirely so he's not going to let anything happen to her, something like that. So if she was in a position where she truly felt threatened, Brutus would come busting out because he is not going to die and he lives within her, so it's also about self preservation. In her mind she is not worried about the outcome of the fight because she knows Brutus is going to come through, it's not her."

"But she took credit for them when we first met her," Face reminded him.

"Because Brutus isn't a real personality, and she doesn't want anybody to get the idea that he is _or_ that she's nuts," Murdock told him.

"And all this means we could be seeing a lot of Brutus in the near future, couldn't we?" Face asked.

"It's possible," Murdock nodded.

"And there's no telling just _what_ is going to bring him out, is there?" Face asked.

"Uh…'fraid not," Murdock shook his head.

"Just gets better and better," Face dryly commented.

* * *

><p>That afternoon, David Grant made another call to Jack Saunders and it was picked up on the recording equipment in Hannibal and B.A.'s room, everybody stood around and listened to the conversation. Another list of roads and interstates was counted off detailing the way Grant would be coming, to make sure nothing went wrong. Then Saunders said something else that made everybody hope they had heard wrong.<p>

"The others are in position and ready to move out," he told Grant, "Dixon and Marco are stationed at the checkpoints to ensure you're not followed after Carbondale."

"The others?" Face mouthed to Hannibal.

"Alright, Jack, you got the next shipment ready to haul out?" Grant asked.

"2200 hours exactly," was the reply.

"That's fine, so everything will stay on schedule."

When they hung up, Hannibal pressed a button that disconnected the recorder, and he was starting to look annoyed, a rarity for him.

"Another shipment, what's that mean?" Face asked Jean.

"Not people," she shook her head, "Just guns and drugs."

"Well what do they call it when they move the recruits out?" Murdock asked.

"A supply haul, there's a difference," she answered, "They reversed it so nobody will ask any questions."

Hannibal seemed to have his mind on something else; he'd taken a piece of the hotel stationary and picked up a pen and started drawing something on it.

"So now we know why Saunders is having his man zigzag clear across the map," he said, and pointed to the scribbled line, "Instead of just going straight up from here, somewhere between here and here he's got two men stationed to make sure when Grant passes certain city limits, he's not being followed."

"I guess Saunders is finally starting to get paranoid," Face suggested.

"No," Jean replied, "He's only being cautious. If he's got more people in the ring again, they're new, Grant's the only original member left alive and Jack's not about to have him killed off too."

"Well, now we know where he'll be going from here," Hannibal said, "And he's not supposed to meet anybody on the way, so now all we have to do is wait for the next few days, and when he leaves, we'll be right behind him."

"Uh, Hannibal," Face said, "What about the checkpoints?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that, Face, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Hannibal told him.

"And blow it up," Jean added.

* * *

><p>Murdock didn't sleep that night. They had all gone to bed at the same time, he and Face in one bed and Jean in the other; but he just lay there in the dark turned on his side so he could watch Jean. It wouldn't surprise him if she tried sneaking out during the night when the others were asleep, and if she would, he would be right behind her to conveniently foil those plans. He could always say that he had suddenly started sleepwalking, again. He never did sleepwalk but she didn't need to know that. It wasn't so much that he had any moral objections to something being done with Grant, even if it <em>did<em> get a little bloody; he just didn't want to take any chances on Grant or anybody else who might be in the hotel laying in wait for Jean to ambush her.

All through the day they had done well to always keep somebody close to her; when they went down to the pool in the afternoon, he and Face had gone swimming with her while Hannibal and B.A. stayed at one of the tables. And after the pool, she had been allowed to shower first and then while Face and Murdock were in the showers, she stayed in the room with B.A. and Hannibal who made a lot of small talk jibber-jabber but it all spelled out the same thing; skating around anything pertaining to what was really going on. Anytime one of them had to leave the room, the other stayed with her; they'd taken their dinner in their room since nobody wanted to take a chance of her disappearing from the table under the guise of going to the ladies room and instead taking a shot at Grant. True, they didn't necessarily need him alive in order to track down Saunders and the rest of the ring, but it wouldn't hurt to have him unknowingly lead the way either.

And that night, Murdock had once again weighed the options of who to bunk with for the night; he would've felt better bunking with Jean because he could keep a closer eye on her that way. But so far they had managed to hover over her without her getting suspicious and he thought that she might if he wound up crawling into bed with her for no apparent reason. If they could keep her in the dark about any of this, they were all for it, him especially; it would be a lot easier that way than if she was fighting with them the entire time. He had also considered filling Face in on his plan for then night, but decided one of them ought to get some sleep.

If Jean was asleep, he was wasting his time watching her in the dark, but if she was only faking it, waiting until a time when she was sure the others were asleep so she could slip out, then he would be ready for her. But he also noted that if she was faking, she was doing a damn great job of playing possum.

Murdock never noticed when he fell asleep but he woke up when he felt somebody shaking him, and before he opened his eyes he worried that something bad had happened, and he went from an incoherent mumble to screaming out, "G-g-get her, quick!"

"Get who?" he heard Jean ask.

Now his eyes were open and he could see both Jean and Face standing over him, looking down at him curiously.

A quick look around the room told him that everything on this side was normal, and he realized the sun was coming up and it was morning. He _had_ fallen asleep, and now they wanted to know what he was talking about, so he thought of something and quickly, "Sorry…I was up late talking to my mother and," he yawned, "I guess I nodded off."

"Look like you must've slept pretty hard," he heard Hannibal's voice, and looking up saw the man standing at the doorway with a cigar in his mouth; a bit early in the morning for that, Murdock thought, or was it?

"I guess so," Murdock said as he got up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Once the door was shut and it was just the three of them in the room, Jean leaned over towards Face and said into his ear, "I thought you said his mother was dead."

Face returned the favor and leaned over towards her and said into her ear in the same gritted teeth voice, "She is."

Jean did a double take and said, "Oh."

"What's the matter, Miss Rhodes?" Hannibal asked with a small smirk, "You don't believe in spirits?"

"Only the high proof variety," she answered.

"Then I guess you don't consider the possibility of contacting the dead," Hannibal said.

"Why should I?" she replied, "Most of them had their say while they were alive, what've they got to say once they're dead?"

"Well," Face looked at Hannibal and smirked, "Murdock _does_ have a Ouija board, we could give it a try."

"Oh yeah?" Jean asked him, "And talk to who?"

Hannibal looked at Face with that same annoying grin he was famous for, the one that without a single word being said, egged Face on since he opened the door, now he had to come up with an answer.

He snapped his fingers and turned to Jean and said, "Jimmy Hoffa, maybe he knows where he was buried."

Jean fell back on the bed laughing, "Traveling circus _indeed_, and just my luck I'm stuck in the clown car."

* * *

><p>Breakfast had been delivered to their rooms also, and just as well since half of the team still didn't look presentable enough to set foot out the door. Murdock had gotten a shower but hadn't bothered to do anything with his hair which now stood up like he'd been electrocuted and Face was a bit more leisurely about getting dressed and looking sharp today for some reason. Murdock pushed the cart over to the table in the center of the room and one by one everybody collected a tray and lifted the lids on plates full of waffles, pancakes, sausages and bacon, and everybody started grabbing some of everything.<p>

"I saw this guy on TV last night on one of the late talk shows," Face told the others, "One of those Hollywood actors, going on about some new kind of health guru diet, say it'll make you live to be 120 or something."

"Must be Japanese," Murdock said.

"Well all I know," Face said as he stabbed a pile of pancakes and dropped them on his plate, "The guy says to live healthy you have to cut out all meat, sugar, dairy, salt, and fruit."

"What's that leave to eat then, weeds?" Jean asked.

"What's wrong with fruit?" Murdock asked.

"You are what you eat," Jean told him, "They don't want you to eat anything that makes you _fruity_." The last word sounded like she pushed it out through her nose, making both men flash on Mrs. Bates in Psycho.

"There have been some reports that suggest arsenic can be found in apples," Face said.

"It can also be found in salt," Jean told him.

"Well…" Face started to say but was cut off.

"_And_ also in beer, but you gonna give that up?" Jean asked, "If you take everything that's bad for you out of your diet, what's left?"

"Weeds," Murdock answered, "But I can kind of understand why they would advise against eating fruit, it _can_ be hazardous to your health but not like you'd think."

"Well sure," Jean said, and Face was starting to feel himself becoming the meat of a crazy sandwich again; somehow these two could always find some way to be on the same level when talking. And it was that little fact that was making Face start to question his own sanity, and it didn't help when she continued with an explanation to emphasize what they were talking about, "Apples have arsenic, there's scorpions in the grapes and _tarantulas_ coming over in the bananas!"

"Ex-actly!" Murdock replied, "Can you imagine? You get back from the grocery store, unload your dozen eggs, your quart of milk, your box of doggie biscuits…"

"What if you don't have a dog?" Jean asked.

"What's your point?" Murdock asked, and continued, "At the bottom of the bag is a pound of seedless red grapes imported from Chile, nice and big and ripe, just a _little_ bit waxy…and you reach into the bag to pull them out and—" he hissed and lunged his hand out across the table, curved up to resemble a scorpion stinger, "And next thing you know you wake up in a hospital bed covered in leeches to suck out the scorpion venom, then they bring in a cat to eat the leeches."

"And then they bring in Mr. Buddha diet to eat the cat," Jean added, "All stir fried up with rice and bean sprouts and those long noodles with some kind of wine spread all over the whole mess."

Face shook his head and said, "This guy on TV makes Jack LaLanne look like Marlon Brando."

"I think he's overrated," Jean commented, "Of course as a child I had the exact _opposite_ problem, I would set stuff on fire if I _didn't_ have sugar. Doesn't Smith work out in Hollywood?"

"On occasion, but nobody's going to be checking out the physique of the Aquamanaic," Murdock said as he stacked sausages on his plate like a set of Lincoln logs.

"Seems to me though that about everybody out there is on some kind of crazy diet," Jean said.

"Well 10 years ago people thought eating bean sprouts and tofu was a sure sign you had lost it," Face said, "But these days it's becoming a lot more popular. Everybody's looking for a healthier way to live."

"And I bet they take those cod oil pills every day, and when they die their livers will surpass them by a week before finally being beaten to death," Jean added as she smothered two waffles in butter, "If that's what they want to do with their lives, all the power to them, but I don't have time to worry about my health for the next 60 years. I have enough trouble making it to the end of the day."

"Well if you're gonna go out, might as well go out with a bang," Murdock said as he started piling some of the bacon on top of the sausage.

"Well since you brought it up, Peck," Jean said to Face, "Let's talk about movie stars."

"What about them?" Face asked.

"Well it's like…okay, take Bruce Lee."

"I don't want him," Face said.

"Healthy as a horse, martial arts expert, could do pushups with a big fat man sitting on his back, and what happens to him? Dead at 32. And then you take someone like Fatty Arbuckle, ate, drank, and was merry for several years, lived to be 46," Jean said, "Not very old but for his own time it meant more than it would today. So I look at that as not just a matter of who lived longer, but who do you think had more fun?"

"But what does any of that have to do with diet?" Face asked.

"Nothing, didn't Bruce Lee die of an allergic reaction to something that caused water on the brain?" Jean asked.

Murdock was starting to laugh and Face was just trying to keep from erupting like a volcano as he asked, struggling desperately to keep a straight face, "And the point is then?"

"Just that healthy people die too, if you don't die from what you eat you'll die of something else, and if you have to go either way you might as well enjoy the trip," she said, "I mean look at all of us. We all have a better chance of dying from being shot or blown up than succumbing to a heart attack."

"Hmm," Murdock swallowed a sip of orange juice and said, "If I'd known you was going to make a speech I would've ordered champagne instead."

"Well here's my bottom line," Jean said, "If I should die first, then Mr. Wheat Germ can feel free to come to my funeral, but on the off chance I outlive the health nuts…" she shook her head, "I ain't going to help bury them, can you imagine what they serve at _those_ receptions?"

Murdock's eyes bugged out and he raised his hands up to his chest and raised his top lip only slightly so his incisors were exposed like a rabbit and he squeaked like a chew toy.

"That sounds about right," Jean commented, and to Face she added, "For all the time they spend in public munching watercress and drinking herbal tea, once everybody's backs are turned they probably barbecue whatever little furry animals they catch in the backyard."

Face's automatic response to that was an impromptu spit take that sent the piece of pancake he was chewing on flying across the room.

* * *

><p>"Hmmm," Hannibal grunted as he put down the headset on the audio equipment.<p>

"What is it, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

"Grant just called down to the front desk, told them that he doesn't want room service, that he's not going to be here for dinner tonight."

"Meeting someone?"

"Could be," Hannibal said, "We'll have to find out where he's going. It could also be that he's onto us and is planning to give us the slip."

B.A. could already tell he was going to be the pack mule again hauling all their luggage back downstairs, and he was right.

"As a precaution," Hannibal said, "It might be a good idea to get the van loaded up incase we have to make a quick getaway after him."

Well, he saw that one coming.

Hannibal went next door and told the others what he'd found out and explained that he was going to go downstairs and wait in the lobby and watch for Grant; when he found out where the man was going he would contact the others and decide then if they should follow or stay behind.

"You got any ideas about it?" Jean asked him.

"I was going to ask you that," he said, "I don't mean to question your work ethic but are you _sure_ that you killed everyone else in the original ring?"

"I don't make mistakes, Smith," she told him, "I know how to do _my_ job."

"And we know how to do ours," Hannibal replied, "No matter, I'll figure out what's going on and get back to you when I do."

He went down to the lobby and stayed away from the front desk where people wouldn't notice him so much, but he had a good view of the exit and he spent half an hour pretending to read the newspaper while he kept one eye open for Grant. He wasn't disappointed, around 6 o' clock the man came down the stairs and went out the revolving door; Hannibal put the paper down and also exited stage right, managing to stay far enough behind that Grant didn't notice he was being shadowed. When he saw the destination Grant was heading to, he took out his walkie talkie and told the others the name and location of the restaurant, and advised them to look nice when they came because he wasn't sure if the place had a dress code. Then he went in, laid on the charm to the waiter and got seated at a table for five that was at a perfect angle to watch David Grant; and also watch the entrance for when the others arrived so they knew where to come.

It didn't take long, within 15 minutes he saw B.A. leading the way with Face and Jean following behind him; Hannibal pointed at his table and they came up and sat down beside him. Hannibal noted that they took his advise of a dress code with a grain of salt; Face still had on the jeans and T-shirt he had earlier that day and a denim jacket, Jean was dressed similarly in blue jeans and a muscle shirt, and B.A. of course was dressed as normally as he ever was.

"Where's Murdock?" he asked.

"I think he said he was going to the restroom," Face said.

"So where's Grant?" B.A. asked.

Hannibal ever so subtly pointed to the side and they all turned and saw the man, sitting alone.

"Is he meeting someone here?" Face asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Hannibal said, "But I'm guessing there's a reason he decided to leave the hotel and its option of room service for this place."

"Lot of people," Jean said, "Lot of witnesses who could either see something or be like Schultz and see nothing, hear nothing, know nothing."

"Either way," Face murmured to her, "Not exactly on the level with how Brutus would do something, is it?"

Jean shook her head in response, "Too risky, I don't involve innocent bystanders for anything."

"Well I have a feeling it's going to be a while," Hannibal told them, "We might as well order dinner."

"Fine with me, I'm hungry," B.A. said.

A few minutes later, Murdock joined them at the table, and Hannibal wasn't overly surprised to see that he was dressed in his usual manner either; still in his tan pants, bomber jacket, black Chuck Taylors, blue cap, and a T-shirt with some slogan on it that was concealed by the jacket.

"You' late fool," B.A. told him.

"We ordered for you," Face added.

"Oh thanks," Murdock said, "What're we having?"

"Steaks," Jean answered, "Best thing I've heard of in a long time, T-bone steak smothered in sauce with baked potatoes and a shot of bourbon to go with it. Ain't eaten like that since I was back home."

There was something in her statement that suddenly made the men surrounding her feel humbled. None of them had a dream life, it was dangerous, it was busy, they hardly got paid by their clients, certainly nothing to the effect of what they charged for their services, they were always risking being caught by Lynch or the police or somebody, and they all knew that sooner or later their luck was going to run out; but all the same, every one of them had a place to go back to at the end of the day, where for a few hours their lives could return to _something_ resembling normalcy. Even for Murdock, he always knew when a mission was over where he would be going and what routine his life would be resuming; he might not have had as many doors open to him for the finer things in life like Hannibal or especially Face, but all four men could count a handful of times in the last few months that they'd been able to come to a place like this and enjoy a meal like this. Nothing particularly fancy or expensive, but a hell of a lot better than Jean had apparently been having to live on since she joined the army.

Hannibal kept one eye on Grant's table all through the meal; for all that time, the colonel was disappointed to realize that nobody was coming to meet this man for any reason. He finally let that eye roll and join the other that was looking at the people at his own table; apparently he had been watching the other man for a long time because the busboys were clearing the table.

"Well," he said, "I guess I was wrong."

"That's got to be a first," Jean said, "Hannibal Smith admits he's wrong," she leaned over the table and asked him, "Can we get that in writing?"

Hannibal was taken aback for a second but he recovered and laughed over her comment and had started to say he would pay the bill and they could go back to the hotel, when he and the others turned when one of the waiters came rolling the dessert tray over to them and lifted a large cake covered in white frosting onto the table.

"There must be some mistake," Hannibal told the man, "We didn't order this."

But the waiter refused to listen, he explained that there was no mistake, this was the right table and the cake had been reserved earlier for the young lady's birthday. All eyes turned to Jean who looked as surprised as they did.

"Birthday?" she repeated in disbelief, "My birthday? Who…" she turned to the man on her left and put it together, "Murdock?"

The pilot couldn't hide the large, closed mouth smile that had taken over his face and he merely looked down at the table until his normal expression could return.

"How the hell did you know it was my birthday?" Jean asked.

Murdock picked his face up and answered, "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Shut up fool, you ain't no magician, you just crazy," B.A. told him.

Murdock didn't care, he still would never reveal his secret, but in truth it was really very simple. When he'd said he was going to the bathroom, he instead went around the corner to a payphone and made one very long distance call back to the Rhodes in New York. He had managed to keep Mrs. Rhodes calm as he told her that they firmly believed they were close to finding Jean; they had a name that was probably false, but they also had a birth date to check against her own, but they needed to know what it was.

"It's funny that you should ask that," the woman had said, and Murdock could tell by her voice that she had been crying, and no wonder with what she said next, "Because it just so happens that today is her birthday."

He hadn't seen that one coming but he knew he couldn't fall off the turnip truck now. "This woman we've spotted is going to a restaurant tonight, if it's her she may see reason to celebrate…for her birthday was there ever any particular kind of cake that she preferred?"

"White," was the solemn answer from the woman, and with a sad laugh she added, "She always hated chocolate cake, even as a little girl we could never get her to eat it."

It would've been so much easier to just scream into the phone that they had her daughter and were bringing her home but Murdock knew he couldn't do that. Instead he told Mrs. Rhodes that they would see what they could find out, and tried to assure her not to worry, that he firmly believed their daughter was safe, and he hung up. Then, he sneaked into the kitchen and, speaking quickly before somebody had a chance to throw him out, explained that he was there with his little sister and their friends for the night; it was her birthday, their plans had fallen through so she was just trying to forget the day ever happened, but he wanted to surprise her so he requested that after dinner one of the waiters bring out a large white cake for her and ignore anybody else's comment that they didn't order it. The staff had been mildly surprised by his sudden entrance but they were happy to oblige.

"Well," Face spoke up, breaking the silence at the table, "We ought to order champagne too then."

"Not with the cake, that just ruins it," Jean replied.

"Well," Hannibal said as he picked up a knife to cut the cake with, "Since it's already here, we might as well enjoy it."

Unfortunately they didn't have long to enjoy anything; halfway through the cake Murdock started making choking, gasping sounds and he pointed to the entrance and told Hannibal, "Don't look now, Colonel but here comes the rain-on-the-parade brigade."

Looking towards the entrance they saw a few MPs had made their way inside and were speaking with the restaurant's manager.

"This guy don't ever give up, does he?" Jean whispered.

"Now what do we do?" Face asked as he slumped down in his chair.

"I've got an idea," Hannibal said, "Everybody get ready to run for the kitchen, we'll try getting out the back way."

Hannibal picked up a piece of the cake in his hand and went over to another table and tapped the man sitting there on the shoulder and when he turned around, Hannibal said with a sneer, "I heard that, pal," and shoved the cake into the man's face and added, "Nobody talks about my mother like that and gets away with it."

The man gasped angrily as he wiped the frosting off his face and he started screaming at Hannibal who had made a calm retreat to his own table. The man got up and went over to their table and started to give Hannibal a piece of his mind, but upon seeing B.A., he also made a retreat back to his table. Murdock picked up the half glass of scotch that Face had ordered and tossed the alcohol across the room and hit that man and managed to splash a couple more, who screamed in response and shot up from their chairs. One of them picked up a plate of spaghetti and hurled it at them, but they ducked down and instead it hit a man at the table next to them.

"All systems a-go," Hannibal smirked as they pushed their chairs back and rushed for the kitchen, but not before Murdock uttered the universal war cry, "FOOD FIGHT!" and the dining hall exploded in everything that wasn't nailed down being hurled in every direction, and the MPs got caught right in the middle of it.

Murdock grabbed Jean by the arm and pulled her towards the kitchen but she pulled away from him screaming, "Wait a minute, I didn't get my wish yet!" And, still with the plate in hand and one piece of the cake on it, she calmly walked up behind the man with the most brass and said in a singsong voice, "Oh Colonel Ly-y-y-y-n-nch!"

"Yes?" before he could turn all the way around and see who was speaking to him, Jean shoved the cake right into his face and momentarily blinded him.

"Courtesy of the A-Team," she told him as she turned and ran to join the others.


	13. Chapter 13

As planned, they made a detour through the kitchen and got out through the back way, and just barely made it to the van in time to get away before they were chased by several cars with red lights flashing on top. Hannibal had gotten in the passenger side and Face, Murdock and Jean were all crammed into the back and had a perfect view of the motorcade behind them.

"Now what do we do?" Jean asked, not ready to accept what seemed painfully obvious, that they were about to get caught.

"Hang on!" Face told her as he saw they were starting to swerve off the road.

"B.A. will you watch what you're doing!" Murdock leaned over and yelled at him.

"It's not me," B.A. replied, "It's the road."

Whatever it was, the van skidded from one side to another like they were in a flood during a hurricane

"Then get us _off_ the road," Hannibal told him.

He did, they went off the paved asphalt and onto dirt and rock and took off in a different direction entirely, but that only gave them more problems; the van jumped every so often as the tires hit large rocks embedded in the crooked ground and in the back they could hear things moving around that they were sure weren't supposed to. The fact that for the moment they had lost Lynch was of minor consolation because they were heading down a very bumpy and uneven hill, and about 50 feet before hitting the bottom, the van hit something large and hit it so hard and so fast that the van was knocked into the air as it descended downhill and made a crash landing just short of colliding with several trees. When the van made one final leap and came to a sudden stop, Hannibal knocked his head against the dashboard and Murdock was thrown up against the window, but he came away from that with only a headache. Hannibal likewise had his hand on his forehead and was trying to figure out at what volume he should speak so his head didn't start throbbing.

"Face, Murdock, you guys okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Colonel," Murdock said, and pushing away from the window he turned and the next thing Hannibal heard was, "Oh my God!"

"What is it?" Hannibal asked as he and B.A. turned around, and got the answer when they saw the van's back doors had been thrown wide open and Face and Jean weren't anywhere to be found.

* * *

><p>Face lay on the ground moaning and his head was swimming, but it slowly occurred to him that he was alright aside from the shock of being thrown out of the van at 50 miles an hour on a downward slope. He'd made a rough landing on the ground and just rolled downhill a ways before coming to a sudden stop, he didn't know <em>why<em> he had stopped but he was grateful he had. He was in a crooked position with one arm beside him and the other clear up over his head; he tried raising his left arm up to make sure it wasn't broken and panicked for a second when he couldn't lift it. Then he realized he'd only caught the sleeve of his jacket on a piece of barbed wire that apparently had been on a fence that was now knocked down. With a little pull he got his sleeve loose and could move his arm fine, but he tried to remember who had fallen out of the van with him, then he remembered.

"Jean?" he called out, and when there was no answer he tried again, "Jean!"

"Shut up, I hear you!" he heard her voice coming from a distance.

"Where are you?" he asked as he got to his feet.

"Over here!" was her only response. Face followed the sound of her voice because it was too dark to actually see anything other than what was right in front of him. There weren't any stars out and if the moon was making an appearance tonight it was blocked behind a screen of dark clouds, so Face had to make his way along in almost complete darkness. As he got closer to Jean, he knelt down and was almost to the point of crawling along the ground looking for her. Finally in the dark he was able to see a figure laid out on the ground, and he went over to her and was able to see her face, by being right up against it as he practically straddled her body to make sure he had a positive ID.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Boy that's a stupid question," she replied.

Face started to respond but she cut him off saying, "If they saw us go off the road, they're going to be checking this area for us and they'll be here soon, get out of here!"

"I'm not leaving you!" he told her, shocked that she could even think of such a thing.

"Peck, don't be an idiot," she told him, "There's no pride in being a dead hero. Forget about me, just save yourself."

"I'm not going," he told her.

"Forget about me, hide yourself," she repeated.

A sound from above threw them both into a panic; Face pressed his hand against her mouth at the same time she threw hers against his, and they were both quiet when they heard a car pass by on the road above. Their hearts sped up when they saw lights coming down the hill, but both were grateful to see that the lights couldn't reach as far down as they were, and they heard somebody step on the accelerator and tear out of there. Face let out a sigh of relief as he took his hand off Jean's mouth and said, "That was close."

"You should've left me incase they came down here," Jean told him.

Face shook his head and said, "I wouldn't leave you here."

The look in her eyes might as well have been a punch to his stomach as she told him, "Now you understand why I've always worked alone."

He didn't know how to respond to that.

Off in the distance Face could see another light, this one was coming from below them, and he could hear Hannibal's voice calling out in the distance, "Face! Jean! Where are you?"

"We're up here, Hannibal!" Face called, hoping that the right colonel heard him.

"Okay!" he heard Hannibal reply, "We'll be right up there, just hang on."

"Where does he think we're going?" Jean asked.

It was then that Face noticed Jean was making no move to get up, and it didn't seem like her to just lay around waiting for someone to help.

"Can you move?" he asked her.

"My arm's stuck on something," she said.

They saw Hannibal's flashlight moving toward them and they heard he and Murdock approaching.

"Are you guys alright?" Murdock asked as he ran over to them.

"I've been better, Murdock," Jean answered.

Hannibal came up close to them and shone his light down on them and they found the answer why Jean was stuck; when she hit the ground, she stopped rolling when her arm got caught on another piece of barbed wire, but unlike Face she hadn't had her jacket on to soften the blow, so instead of being able to pull it loose like he had, her arm had gotten wrapped around the wire or vice versa.

"You never can do anything the easy way, can you, kid?" Hannibal asked, obviously trying to lighten the mood as he tried to figure out what to do. The wire was so tangled around her arm there was no simple matter of getting it off of her or pulling her out of it. A few pieces had gotten half shoved into her flesh and the wounds were already bleeding.

"Face, get over here and hold the light steady," Hannibal told him as he dug around in his coat pocket and found what he was looking for.

"What're you going to do?" Face asked as he took the flashlight, and he got the answer when he saw that Hannibal was holding a small set of wire cutters.

Hannibal passed Face and knelt down beside Jean and told her, "I need you to hold still, we're going to have to cut the wire off first and then get it _out_. I know it's going to be painful but—"

"Just do what you have to," Jean told him, looking like she really didn't care anymore.

"Murdock," Hannibal nodded his head toward them, "I may need you to help hold her still."

Piece by piece Hannibal cut off the wire from around her arm, that was the easy part but then came the task of getting the barbs out of her flesh; she never screamed though she got out a few grunts and groans and kicked the air under her feet until her legs looked like a couple of propellers. As soon as the wire came out the blood started flowing freely, and Hannibal considered it lucky that she only came out of it with three holes in her arm. The rest of the spikes that had been coiled around her arm had barely scratched the surface. When he was done he had Face hold the light closer for a better look, and he told Jean, "You had a narrow escape, these could've been a lot deeper and more numerous than they are." He looked to the others and said, "Let's get her to the van, we'll get her patched up in there."

Jean kicked at them when they tried to lift her off the ground, yelling at them, "Don't touch me, leave me alone!" And when they finally backed off she added firmly, "I'll walk, just help me up."

Murdock raised her good arm over his shoulders and helped her get to her feet and they walked over to where B.A. was inspecting the van for damages.

"Well B.A., what's the verdict?" Hannibal asked.

"A few dents but we'll be able to get out of here," he answered as he shut off his light.

"Good, see if you can find a motel where we can stop for the night," Hannibal said as they piled into the van.

Face took off his jacket and placed it down so Jean's blood wouldn't stain the upholstery, and he got in the front with B.A. and Hannibal and Murdock got in the back with her. Murdock kept a light on Jean while Hannibal dug around the first aid kit; first he poured peroxide on the cuts to clean them out and they foamed on contact and stood up in piles, and when that was done he took out a roll of gauze and bandaged up her arm.

"That'll do for now until we're in a better position to examine it," he told Jean as he tied off the gauze.

"I'll say one thing," Jean remarked, "Traveling with you guys sure ain't ever boring."

"How about you, Face?" Murdock asked, "Are you alright?"

Face nodded, "Yeah Murdock, I'm fine."

He didn't bother telling them he could already feel bruises forming on his legs from when he had hit the ground. Compared to being impaled on the razor wire, he thought that was a very _minor_ complaint and not even worth mentioning.

Jean started to nod off halfway through the ride but Hannibal decided it would be best to keep her awake until he could fully see the extent of the damage; so anytime she closed her eyes he reached around and poked her or tapped her cheek. The problem was after a while she tried to grab his hand and used her injured arm since it was the one closest to him. So instead he relied on Murdock to keep her awake; he moved over next to her and talked to her for the remainder of the drive until they came to a rundown shack resembling the Bates motel. Hannibal went and got them two rooms and was lucky to get the last ones available.

Once inside, Hannibal had Jean get on the bed and he unwrapped the now bloody gauze and saw that most of the bleeding had stopped already; he cleaned the cuts out a second time and wrapped her up like Kharis the mummy again. Looking her over he saw that otherwise she had only suffered a few scrapes from the fall and hitting the rocky ground and decided it was safe for her to lie down and go to sleep. When he finished bandaging her arm again, he gave it a slight squeeze and said, "Alright kid, there you go. We'll check it again in the morning but in a few days it should be back to normal."

"Thanks, Smith," Jean said as she looked at the new bandage, as if making sure he had done it right.

"Face and Murdock are going to stay with you tonight, and B.A. and I are going to be in the room next door," he pointed.

"That seems to be a running theme around here," Jean noted.

Hannibal stood up and turned around to talk to the others but he saw it was only Murdock, "Where's Face?"

"I don't know," he answered, "He left right after we got our rooms."

"He can't have gone far," Hannibal said, "I'm sure he'll be back soon." He turned back to Jean and added, "I think you'll be alright for the time being so I'll leave you alone and we'll see you in the morning."

"Okay, Hannibal," Murdock walked with him towards the door.

"Oh Murdock," Hannibal stopped, "Can I speak to you outside for a minute?" He turned back to Jean and flashed his trademark smile that said something was going on, "We'll be right back, excuse us."

Murdock followed behind Hannibal, not sure what was going on but he had a feeling he was going to get his ears pinned back for something involving what had happened tonight. Outside the motel cabin, the two men stood under a streetlamp and Murdock waited to know why he had been called out here, and the answer wasn't what he was expecting.

"You done good tonight, Captain," Hannibal told him.

"Huh?"

Hannibal smiled at him, not his cynical smile, a genuine one that showed he was proud and said, "I don't know _how_ you found out today was her birthday, but she's never going to forget what you did for her."

Murdock found himself at a loss for words, he looked down at the ground and said, "It wasn't anything, Colonel."

"It was to her," Hannibal replied.

"Hey guys," they heard Face as he came walking up to the motel, and they both noticed but didn't question that he was carrying a brown paper bag with him, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Lieutenant," Hannibal said, "I'll see you guys in the morning." And he disappeared over to his own room for the night.

"Where you been, Faceman?" Murdock asked as they went back to their room.

"I had to stop off somewhere," Face told him, "And pick something up."

They went inside and found Jean still on the bed, her head propped up against the pillows and the headboard, one leg flat on the bed and the other folded across it, and her good arm folded behind her head.

"How're you feeling?" Face asked.

"How do I look?" Jean asked teasingly.

"Not good," Face answered.

"Well I feel better than that," she said, "So where'd you disappear off to?"

Face reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of champagne and some suitable glasses for it.

"Alright, what're we drinking to?" Jean asked, "Escaping from Lynch again?"

"Nope," Face replied as he opened the bottle and poured the three glasses full, "This is for your birthday."

"Works for me," Jean said as he handed her the glass.

"Well," Face said when they each had a drink, "This is your big day, do you have a speech prepared?"

"Sure," Jean said, and leaned forward so she could hold her glass to theirs, "I've lived enough days to make it through another year, now I have a new number on my age, maybe I'll get lucky and live to see enough days pass to see the next one too."

They clinked their glasses and drank, and Murdock immediately spit half of his out, "Ooh Face, the turpentine variety, I thought you were above that."

"Mmm," Face opened his mouth and let his fall back into the glass, "They must've changed something since the last time I drank this brand, I remember it used to be good."

Jean swallowed hers and said, "It's not too bad," and she held her glass out to him and added, "Pour it on!"

"I know you're just saying that to be nice," Face told her, "But you asked for it." He poured her a second drink and she downed it faster than the first, and he and Murdock tried theirs again, and it was still awful but they drank it anyway to be good sports since she was game enough to swallow it.

When the bottle was empty they decided to turn in for the night; Murdock helped Jean get settled under the covers and repositioned the pillows behind her head, despite her insistence that she could do it herself.

"Hey Murdock," she said when he started to move away from her.

He leaned back over towards her and said, "What is it?"

Jean leaned forward and wrapped her good arm around his back and said, "I don't know _how_ you found out today was my birthday, but I had a great time today. Thanks." And she leaned further against him and kissed him on the cheek.

"What about me?" Face asked, "Don't I get a kiss too?"

"Sure, Face," Murdock turned around and reached for him.

"Not you!" Face laughed as he moved past Murdock.

"Yeah sure," Jean said with a straight face and a tired voice, "Might as well get that over with."

Face went over to her and was careful not to touch her since he didn't want to hurt her, but she did the same thing with him she had with Murdock; she put her good arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. He felt certain that she must've been loopy in between the pain, the loss of blood and the alcohol because he was sure at any other time she would've been just as inclined to kick his teeth out as to kiss him, or maybe more.

* * *

><p>Murdock wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when the moaning woke him up. It took him a few seconds to realize that it was Jean making the noises but when he did he sprang out of his bed and over to hers to find out what was the matter, and it didn't take long to find out. Jean had fallen asleep on her bad arm and had done it at such a crooked position that now she couldn't move her neck either. Also, whatever she had done while she was asleep, all circulation was gone from both arms clear up to the shoulders and she couldn't move either one to get the blood flowing again. So he helped her, first he managed to move her head to the other side and straighten out her neck without causing too much pain, then he grabbed one arm, and then the other and moved them a little and then rubbed up and down the flesh to get the circulation going again; after a few minutes she was able to move her fingers and curl them up into fists, after which she was slowly able to move her arms by herself as well.<p>

"Thanks, Murdock," she said as she lay back against the pillows, "That was creepy."

"That ever happen before?" he asked her.

"A couple of times years ago," she answered, "Usually I have about an inch worth of movement in one arm so I can move it and grab the other one, but this time…"

"Let me guess," Murdock pointed to her right arm that was tied up with gauze, "This one."

She nodded, "I guess being punctured open like a tire _really_ didn't do me any favors tonight."

Of course Murdock didn't have to tell her what she already knew, she was _lucky_ that it was only her arm, a few more inches and she could've had that razor wire wrapped around her neck or her chest, then they would've had a problem.

"Murdock," Jean slowly started to sit up in the bed and asked him, "Would you have any objections to staying here for a few minutes?"

"Not at all," he said as he sat down beside her.

He was surprised when Jean leaned over towards him and hugged him again, tighter this time than she had before.

"Thanks, Murdock," she said into his ear.

"For what?" he asked.

"For what you did tonight," she answered, "I think this was the best birthday I ever had."

Murdock kept to himself the comment of just how miserable her life must've been then if that was the case. What had started as a few minutes quickly turned into the rest of the night when after a while, Jean fell asleep beside Murdock with her head on his shoulder. Murdock leaned over and kissed her and said quietly, "Happy birthday, kid."

* * *

><p>Hannibal busted into the room and got everybody up at 5 o' clock and suggested it would be in their best interest to hit the road again before the sun came up and people could report seeing their van in the area. It didn't take them long to get their stuff together and clear out, but now the question on everyone's mind and Face took it upon himself to actually ask it, "What do we do now?"<p>

Hannibal tapped the screen on the dashboard and said, "We've still got Grant on our radar, he's probably going to move according to schedule, if we keep on in the direction we're going, we should beat him to his intended destination by a couple of days."

"What about the checkpoints?" Face asked again.

"Oh we'll taper off before point A and lay in wait for Grant to take care of that himself," Hannibal said, "But I don't see any harm in staying a step ahead of him."

"So where do we go in the meantime?" Jean asked.

Hannibal took out the makeshift map that he had drawn in the hotel room the other day and said, "I'd like to think we've already gotten about 10 miles of a head start on Lynch, and if we put another 30 on that today, we can stop off somewhere and take it easy for a while."

"Sounds good to me," Face said.

Jean heard something rattling in the back under the van and added, "But something else don't sound so good."

* * *

><p>Late that morning they found a secluded place to park where B.A. could work on the van and make sure that there wasn't any worse damage done than he had initially thought and also to make sure that nobody had made <em>them<em> a little blip on a radar screen. Face volunteered that while B.A. worked on the van, he and Murdock would go for breakfast since they weren't _too_ far away from civilization. Jean had volunteered to go with them and after a little debating on the subject, Hannibal finally agreed and let her go; he figured if something would happen and any of them would be ambushed, Face and Murdock could easily disappear in a crowd and blend in and he'd rather the girl have the same chances with them, instead of being fish in a barrel in the middle of nowhere with he and B.A.

Face, Murdock and Jean had found a paved road leading into a town half a mile away from where they had stashed the van; and ten minutes after entering the town they found and went into a donut shop, and could've been in and out in a couple of minutes except Murdock couldn't decide what he wanted so they wound up leaving with four cups of coffee and a couple dozen twists, rings, jelly donuts, a dozen cake donuts picked solely for all their different sprinkles, and a bag of powdered donut holes. And once they left the shop, he opened the box and started touching them one at a time to decide what to eat first.

"Keep it up Murdock and you'll eat the whole box before we ever get back," Face told him.

Face handed Murdock the coffee and took the box of donuts, gave it to Jean to carry and then took the coffee back so Murdock couldn't drink all of it before they returned either.

"Times like this I wish I was back in LA," Face commented.

"What's in LA?" Jean asked him.

"My car for one thing," he answered, "If I had my 'Vette with me now, we could just drive out and back while we wait for B.A. to fix the van."

"Well can't you turn on your magic charm and scam another car in the meantime?" Jean asked.

"In this outfit?" Face pulled on the lapel of his jean jacket.

Jean looked past him to Murdock and she stopped and yelled incoherently as she pointed. Face turned to see what she was looking at and he saw that Murdock had stopped in his tracks; his arms were held out to the sides like a bird spreading its wings and he looked up to the sky with wide eyes and an open mouth, and he scratched the sole of one shoe across the ground like a chicken scratching the dirt.

"What's the matter with him?" Jean asked, "Is he having a seizure?"

Murdock tilted his head further back to look up at the sky and he called out, "Momma!"

Now Face was starting to get worried, and Jean was already past that point, asking Face, "What did he do, swallow cyanide or something?"

"Murdock," Face went over to him, "What is it?"

Murdock didn't look at Face, he kept his eyes skyward and said, "Can't you hear her, Facey? Can't you hear her calling me?"

Face looked back to Jean and she looked as panicked as he was starting to feel. This was a new one on him and he didn't have any idea what the hell it was supposed to mean.

"Murdock, what're you talking about?" he asked.

"Oh can't you hear her? I can hear her calling me, she's saying loud and clear '_Murdock_!' She's saying it's time to come on home to the sky."

"Who is?" Face asked.

Jean looked to the sky and realized something, "You hear that?"

Now it was Face's turn to try and hear what was going on, at first he didn't hear anything but after a minute he could hear a low, constant, repetitive sound, gradually becoming louder and as it did he recognized it for the unforgettable thwump-thwump-thwump it was.

"It's a chopper!" Jean said.

"Mmm-hmm," Murdock nodded as he started to grin, "It's a _big_ bird."

Jean looked at him and asked, "Not a military caliber is it?"

"Could be," Murdock replied, "Yes…I'd almost swear, it's a Huey."

Face and Jean looked at each other and both had different ideas on what this could mean but both knew if either of them were right it wouldn't be good.

"Think it's Lynch?" Jean asked.

"Ohhh, I don't think so," Murdock shook his head, "All the same I can hear her calling to me, to relieve her of her current pilot. She needs a new crew, Facey!"

"I don't see any helicopter," Face told him.

"Oh but I can hear her, Face, she is close by and she _needs_ me!" Murdock said.

They each grabbed him by one side and started back towards the van, with him resisting the whole way. Most of the fight was gone from him by the time they got back, but Hannibal still wanted to know what was going on.

"He heard a helicopter on the way back and thought it was calling him," Face answered, making it sound as if it was completely normal.

"_She_, Face," Murdock corrected him, "She! For someone who can charm all the women you need to learn how to address them properly."

Hannibal ignored their debate and looked to the captain and asked him matter-of-factly, "How 'bout it, Murdock?"

"Oh Colonel I can hear her calling, she needs me to come and liberate her," he insisted.

"Hannibal," B.A. growled, "I warned you about encouraging him."

"Did you see the copter?" Hannibal asked.

"No."

"Too bad," Hannibal said, doing a good job of sounding sorry for Murdock, "If we come across it, you may get your chance."

"What?" Face asked.

"Well come on, guys," Hannibal told them, "Lynch is on our trail and he's not going to give up the chase, he may be able to catch some of us but if we have a helicopter at our disposal, there's no way he can catch all of us, isn't that right, B.A.?"

"So long as some other crazy fool goes on the chopper," B.A. remarked.

"An aerial view of where the MPs are going couldn't hurt either," Hannibal added.

"Now don't tell me we have to go chasing a helicopter," Face said.

"Oh…I'm sure that wherever it is, it'll make its presence known again soon," Hannibal replied.

* * *

><p>Murdock wasn't waiting for the helicopter to take off again, he became a bloodhound for the bird and took off through the woods searching for it, with Face and Jean following behind him, exactly like chasing a dog that escaped leash and all.<p>

"I tell you it's close by, I can hear her calling to me!" Murdock said as he raised a hand to his ear, "Come on!"

"No wonder B.A.'s always threatening to knock him into next Wednesday," Jean commented to Face as they hopped over tree stumps and logs following after the pilot.

"Yeah but then that would _really_ throw our week off," Face replied with a huff as he jumped over a rabbit hole.

Murdock stopped dead in his tracks about 20 feet ahead of them and sniffed and turned and started running off to the side and they followed after him, but were never quite able to catch up with him. When Murdock stopped the second time, they were able to catch up with him, but they hadn't noticed he had stopped running and they crashed into him and all three of them fell down; and they realized when they fell down they didn't hit a dirt ground, but a paved road.

"Well," Jean said as they got untangled from one another, "We seem to be back on the road to civilization."

"Or lack thereof," Murdock said as he stood up and looked around and noted there was no traffic, or people, or anything alive in their vicinity.

"So which way do we go?" Jean asked.

Face looked at the road behind them, and ahead of them, and he had no idea where either direction would lead, but he had a bad feeling about the whole thing. He looked at Murdock and opened his mouth to say something but Murdock put his hand just over Face's mouth and said, "Shhhh," without even looking at him. "You hear that?"

They did, that unmistakable thwump-thwump-thwump of the chopper's rotor.

"It sounds like it's already landing," Jean said.

"No," Murdock shook his head, "Land_ed_."

"He can tell that?" Jean asked Face.

"Murdock knows about helicopters like you probably know about Oz," Face told her.

"Alright Murdock, where is it?" Jean asked.

Murdock sounded like a machine starting up and he whirled around on one foot and pointed at random until he came to a stop and pointed to the road ahead of them. "Over there, come on."

They ran down the street to see if they could find the helicopter before it took off, or if it was landed like Murdock said, if they could get some idea of who had been flying it. It was well known that Murdock had his own methods for getting things, especially helicopters, from people when a situation called for it; granted he usually pulled them off with less charm and finesse than Face was usually able to do, but it worked nonetheless.

They followed Murdock, who followed the sound of the chopper to a spot down by the river; where on the way to it they got off the road again and wound up climbing down through weeds that were about as tall as they were. Pulling the weeds aside, they were able to peer through and they saw a large helicopter on the other side of the river and they were able to see the people getting out of it.

Face's heart jumped up to his throat, "MPs." He would recognize those outfits anywhere.

"You see Lynch anywhere?" Jean asked as she squinted to see out that far.

Face shook his head, "They don't look like the same ones from last night." Then another idea occurred to him and he asked Jean, "When they said another shipment to move out, _how_ do they transport them?"

"In the…" Jean pointed and realized what he was getting at, "In the choppers. Uh…" she reached over and jabbed Face with her elbow, "Do you see what I see?"

"All I see is a helicopter and six goons in green with guns," Face told her, "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Do you know what the number on the copter is?" Jean asked him.

Face started to yell at her demanding to know what that had to do with anything, when it hit him just what her point was; there were no numbers on the chopper because it was entirely black.

"This is the stuff movies are made of."

"Unfortunately we can't get across the river to find out what the hell's going on without drawing plenty of attention to ourselves," Jean reminded him, "So now what do we do?"

Face pulled out his walkie talkie and said into it, "Hannibal, we've got problems."

There was static over the walkie talkie, followed by Hannibal's voice asking, "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"Murdock was right about the chopper," Face told him, "But I don't think grabbing it would be in our best interest, it's got a crew of MPs onboard and if this is a standard military chopper nobody's going to know because it's all black, no number, no nothing."

He gave Hannibal the best directions he could toward their current location and Hannibal advised them to stay out of sight, he and B.A. would be down there soon so they could figure out what was going on; but in the meantime he recommended they keep an eye on the MPs and see if they could find out what was going on.

"That's easy for him to say," Jean said, "What're we going to do, swim over?"

As far as the eye could see the river seemed to stretch on forever. "There has to be a bridge somewhere to get across," Face told her, "Let's head down and see what we can find."

Jean tapped Murdock on the shoulder and said, "He's really on it, ain't he?"

"Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet," Murdock assured her, and they followed after Face.

They made their way along through the four foot tall grass and the jagged, rocky ground beneath them and alternated between seeing the path ahead of them and over to the other side of the river to see if anything was going on; so far so good, no sight of anybody or anything. None of them said anything but they quickly found out this was a very good place to get lost; while Face managed to maintain the lead, Murdock and Jean kept losing one another until finally when they about collided again, Murdock grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along beside him so he could keep an eye on her.

When the weeds finally reached an end, they walked out scratched and half eaten alive by bugs but saw they weren't any closer to finding an inconspicuous way over than when they first arrived. Murdock noticed that somewhere along the way down, the wooded area had given way to a large rocky dirt ridge that also seemed to expand on for miles, and he started climbing up it, why, the others had no idea, but they followed after him. It wasn't an easy climb up and several times Face slipped or scratched his hand on something, but they finally made it to a level area where they could stand straight and get a higher view of things. From there they could look out over the river and see across it there was a string of buildings that looked eerily similar to airplane hangars.

"What is it?" Jean asked, "A military base?"

"I don't know," Face replied, "But I don't like the looks of it."

From their new position they could see people across the river, albeit now they appeared considerably smaller, like a bunch of camouflage ants. They moved around the buildings, and, looking back a ways, they saw the spot where the helicopter had landed and saw several other men moving around it, working on it.

"I hope Hannibal and B.A. get here soon," Face commented, "I don't know _what's_ going on but I don't like the looks of it at all."

"Face, we've just got to get over there," Murdock told him, "I've got to get to her, I can hear her calling me."

"Don't start that again, Murdock," Face said, "Not now."

"Hey, look!" Jean pointed across the way.

He did look, and he saw what she saw, coming around from behind the hangars were several jeeps and military armored cars; they came to a stop in front of the hangars and they saw the MPs loading crates into the jeeps.

"If that _were_ the traffickers," Face said to Jean, "What would be in _those_ crates?"

"Ammo maybe, the smaller grade weapons," she said, "It doesn't really look like it could be much compared to what I've seen them ship out."

"Well then what is it they've got?" Face wanted to know.

"I don't know but we better get out of here," Jean suggested, "If they take off in that chopper again they're going to have a bird's eye view and wouldn't have any problem spotting three trespassers this side of the river."

"Back into the weeds," Murdock said as he pulled his cap down.

They hit the rocky ground again and continued on in the same direction; before too long they saw a road again and followed it back onto a paved street, and once again found there wasn't anybody around.

"What do you think's going on around here?" Jean asked.

Face honestly had no idea, but looking ahead he could see there was a town a few hundred yards away; he didn't see any people but he saw buildings and decided they might have better luck there. Unfortunately upon arrival they saw that the place had been reduced to a ghost town; no people, no cars, not a single sign of life to be found anywhere. The businesses were all crammed against one another and all looked like they had been run out of business only a few weeks or months ago; a diner, a motel, a barber shop, a bar, everything was shut down, dark and boarded up.

"Well, anybody else interested in giving up?" Jean said as they sat down on the curb.

Face was just about to answer her when he heard something.

"Somebody's coming, it might be a good idea to get out of sight until we find out who it is," Face said as he went over to the diner and tried its front door. By some luck it was unlocked and they ran in and locked it behind them.

From the front window they were able to see that a couple of the jeeps they had seen across the river were pulling up outside a couple of buildings over, and the MPs were hauling out the crates.

"Well that has to prove there's a bridge around here somewhere," Face dryly commented.

"Can you see what they're taking out?" Jean asked.

Murdock pressed his face against the window and squinted his eyes and said, "Looks like tear gas grenades."

"How did they know we were here?" Jean asked.

"Uh guys," Face said, "If there's a back way out of here we better find it _now_, that's not tear gas." He turned to them and said, "They're gonna firebomb us!"

They got away from the window without a minute to spare; behind them they heard glass breaking and the WHOOSH of the fire as the front of the diner instantaneously went up in a blaze. As they took off for the back they could hear more Molotov cocktails hitting the place, and all around them the walls were going up in flames. Face was the first one to reach the back door and upon throwing it open he saw the van had just pulled up; he didn't have any idea _how_ Hannibal and B.A. knew where they were but he was thankful they did.

Murdock had been just a few feet behind Face and was about to leap out the doorway himself when he heard a crash behind him followed by Jean screaming. He turned around and ran back when he saw Jean had run into one of the tables in the room behind him and fell down clutching her side.

Face had seen Murdock just at the exit and then he turned around and ran back into the diner. Face didn't understand what was going on and he started to go in after Murdock when he was knocked back by an explosion that blew out all the windows in the diner as the whole building was engulfed in red and orange flames and black smoke poured out. Face lunged towards the blazing inferno but he was grabbed back at the last second by B.A., who pulled him away saying, "Whoa man, you can't go in there now!" B.A. knew there wasn't any point in adding the obvious, that there wasn't anything he could do to help Murdock now.

Face couldn't accept it though; he saw the burning building that had just erupted like a volcano and knew that soon the whole thing would fall apart and collapse, and knew that his best friend was trapped in there with no way out. As the flames shot out from the roof and climbed several feet into the sky, Face lost the will to struggle against B.A.'s grip on him but he screamed out at the top of his lungs until his throat was raw, "MURDOCK!"

Hannibal stood alongside his two men and saw the same sight; saw the flames, saw the black smoke as thick as tar, saw the blackened debris of the building breaking away and falling apart bit by bit; his eyes stung from the smoke but he couldn't even blink as he took in the nightmare before him.

"Dear God in Heaven," he just barely managed to get out.


	14. Chapter 14

The rain came hours after the diner finished burning to the ground, ensuring that nothing was left burning, but the smolder that filled the air would stay hanging for a few days before finally clearing. B.A. and Hannibal sat in the front of the van, watching the rain beat down outside; Face was laid out in the backseat and blissfully unconscious and so unaware of what was going on. At least one of them could get some rest, even if it had been against his will. Hannibal still regretted doing it, knowing how much Face hated any and all drugs and how well they did _not_ mix with him, but he and B.A. had decided it was best to give him an injection of the sedative they always used on B.A. before going on a plane.

"I'm sorry, kid," he could remember saying, "But it has to be done."

But Face had been so engulfed in his grief over Murdock that he had barely even noticed the shot in the arm, hardly had any strength left in him to even try and fight it. After a few minutes he had finally started to calm down and become quiet, eventually he closed his eyes and slumped over and both men were relieved that they would have silence for a few hours. But both knew that when the drug wore off, and he woke up the next morning, it would only start again.

Hannibal tried not to think about the events of that afternoon but his mind kept running back to them anyway; they had held onto a thread of hope that somehow Murdock and Jean had managed to get out of the building before it exploded, and they had waited around as long as they could, giving them the chance to come out of hiding and join them before they got out of there. But nobody had come except for the MPs and they knew they had no choice, they had to leave; Hannibal still thought that there might be a chance Murdock was alive, and if he was, somehow he would find a way to catch up with them. They'd managed to get away without being spotted, but after that they didn't have any idea where they should go. Hannibal had B.A. get them out of sight and that was where they stopped for the night; tomorrow he would have to figure out where they went on from here.

Once they stopped, Hannibal went around to the back where Face had collapsed and remained on his side with his face buried in his hands as he cried uncontrollably, still not able to accept that Murdock was dead. Hannibal grabbed him and held him, worried that Face might lash out and hurt himself in the process; this was one time where he hated feeling like a father to the others because how could you console one son over the death of his brother?

"Come on, Face, don't do that," he'd said as he tried to get the lieutenant to calm down, "It can't do any good now."

He hadn't been sure before if Face could hear them, but apparently he could because that statement only made him yell louder.

In the front seat, B.A. caught a glimpse of Hannibal and Face in the rear view mirror, but only for a minute. He held his head down and kept his gaze low, after a minute he balled his hand into a fist and beat the steering wheel a few times. He was not a man who was overly familiar with guilt, but he was sure feeling it now because he could hear Jean's words from the other day ringing in his ears, _"You don't fool me. B.A., if anything bad were to ever happen to Murdock, you'd feel terrible and you know it."_ And he did, and now he was thinking back to all his threats against Murdock over the years.

Hannibal had likewise caught a glimpse of B.A. up front, his head down and though he never wore his emotions on his arm, the colonel could tell the sergeant was not feeling too proud of himself right now. He couldn't get mad at B.A., all the arguments he and Murdock had over the years were mostly talk and all amounted to little more than what he would consider to be sibling rivalry. They were brothers in the purest sense, always had been; blood hadn't been allowed to separate them, not in 'Nam, and not when they got back home either. Of course B.A. would never admit it but Hannibal knew he liked Murdock, despite all his empty threats to strangle him or knock him out.

And Face, Hannibal knew why he had been hit the hardest by the tragedy of that day; they were always a team but as far as actually being friends went, he and Murdock were two peas in a pod. Face was the one who always visited Murdock at the V.A., and always broke him out, the two couldn't have been closer if they'd been twins.

Face fed off of his grief like a junkie off a bag of heroin; for hours he stayed that way, wrapped in Hannibal's arms, screaming and crying his heart out, never weakening, never letting up. Finally it came to a point that B.A. couldn't listen to it anymore and he said, "He can't stay like this all night, Hannibal, give him a shot and put him to sleep."

Hannibal had been taken by surprise because none of them had spoken in over an hour and he wasn't sure he heard right, he looked up to the man in the front seat and asked, "What?"

"Give him the knockout stuff you' always slipping me, put him out of his misery already," B.A. told him.

Hannibal caught on and nodded; he kept one arm wrapped around Face and with his free hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a new syringe and a vial of the sedative, and handed them both to B.A. and told him, "Get it ready."

B.A. did and gave the syringe back to Hannibal; and after a few minutes when the drug took effect and Face started to wind down like an old music box, Hannibal laid him out on the backseat and covered him with his jacket, taking some solace in knowing they'd have a few hours at least before having to deal with this again.

Hannibal was drawn back to the here and now by a low grumbling coming from the driver's seat; he looked over and saw B.A. slumped down in his seat, he had also finally fallen asleep. Hannibal was glad for that, he needed to get out of the van and he didn't want either of his men knowing it. Absentmindedly as he opened the door on his side, he reached behind him and grabbed a bag from the backseat, Murdock's bag; he didn't know why he had grabbed it or why he was taking it with him, but he was.

He didn't know how far he walked in the rain, all he knew was he stopped under a streetlamp somewhere. He never let on to the others when something bothered him, even though he knew it didn't matter; he always tried to be reassuring for everybody else's benefit, even at times he was sure they were going to be killed. He felt like he had a right to be angry, he wanted to have somebody to be mad at but he knew that it wouldn't do any good and it just wasn't possible either. He couldn't be mad at Murdock for going back into the building; he reran the scene in his head over and over, trying to think of something to blame it on, something that could've been done differently, but there was nothing. He was proud of their captain for putting his own safety aside, to run back into a burning building to save an innocent life, but he couldn't get over the feeling that it should've been him instead.

In the rain, Hannibal looked up to the sky, and he saw nothing, no stars, no moonlight, only blackness and dreariness as far as the eye could see, how fitting, he thought.

"So what is this, some kind of sick joke?" he asked, "The last ten years of being hunted by the men who were supposed to be our own comrades wasn't bad enough, is that it? It was too easy for us to just adapt to being traitors to our own country for something we didn't do, so this? Why Murdock? Why that girl? Why not me? If somebody had to die today why not me?"

But he knew no answer would come; he hung his head low and realized he was stroking Murdock's bag with one hand as if it was a pet. He walked again until he came to a gas station and he stood by the door, out of the rain for the most part so that the contents in the bag wouldn't be ruined as he opened it. Drawing back the zipper, Hannibal pulled the bag open to see what was in it: a yoyo, a Walkman, a pair of sunglasses, a change of clothes, his prized Captain Bellybuster hat, a Polaroid camera, and a few photographs. Hannibal sorted through the pictures and saw some were older, taken when they were back in Vietnam, and others were more recent; he remembered the shutterbug phase Murdock had gone through a few months ago, randomly snapping pictures of them and usually blinding them with the flash. Luckily he had been able to save the roll of film before B.A. grabbed the camera away from him and broke it into two pieces with his hands.

At the back of the pile Hannibal saw some new photos that had to be from the Polaroid; he was mildly surprised to see that these photos had been taken back at the hotel, as the eccentric Tuttle family. Of course Face never allowed himself to be photographed, it was too risky that any picture could fall into the wrong hands; but there was one of Murdock and Jean standing side by side in matching jean shorts and Hawaiian T-shirts, obviously since Face wouldn't pose for the camera he had been made the photographer. Hannibal smiled grimly in remembrance of those days, he picked the picture up so he could see it closer, and he said quietly, "Sleep well you two, you've made your country, and your families proud."

* * *

><p>Hannibal had no recollection of going back to the van, or of falling asleep, but the next thing he knew he was jerked awake by a sudden noise and realized he was back in the passenger seat of the van again. Beside him, B.A. was already awake and apparently had been for a while.<p>

"You realize Hannibal, what we got to do, don't you?" he asked.

Hannibal's head was still foggy, he tried to remember where they were, what day it was, and then he turned around to see Face was still asleep in the back.

"We came close but it doesn't end here," B.A. told him, "We got to press on and bring the trafficking ring _down _hard, otherwise the girl and that crazy fool both died for nothing."

Hannibal found himself nodding before he actually realized what B.A. said, "You're right, B.A., they'd want it that way, it's too late to turn back now."

He still had the map, and they still knew the schedule; they would continue up to Chicago and bust the ring wide open and make sure the people still in it were put out of business and regretted ever being born. Once that was taken care of, _then_ they would figure out some way to break the horrible news to Jean's parents, but one thing was certain; Hannibal knew when that moment came, he was going to make it clear that their daughter died a hero, serving her country.

But first, before they could do that, he told B.A. they were going to track down the men responsible for setting the diner on fire and deal with them first. He didn't care if they were military police, they were nothing more than cold blooded murderers and he was going to settle the score with them first.

Face was groggy upon awakening but he seemed to have a good memory of what had happened yesterday; though it apparently hadn't fully hit him yet what was going on because he was very calm as he explained to Hannibal about the MPs and the chopper and the base that they appeared to be working at, and he was able to show them the way he and Murdock and Jean had gone yesterday when they found it.

"There has to be a bridge for them to cross over but we couldn't find it," he said.

"Well we should be able to find it a bit faster today," Hannibal told him as they zoomed along the road at 60 miles an hour.

"Hannibal," Face tiredly said, "How did you guys know where to find us?"

"Well we found our way off the main road and down by the river like you'd told us," he explained, "And when you weren't there we figured you had gone on ahead for some reason so we just followed the path into town. We saw the jeeps and decided it might be a good idea to check out where they were going, but we followed on the road behind them, which leads to the back alley behind the buildings, including the diner."

Face didn't say anything and just tiredly nodded his head in understanding.

"Hannibal, you sure this is going to work?" B.A. asked.

"Two of us can do the job, B.A.," Hannibal assured him, "We just have to take them by surprise."

"Three," Face said, and when Hannibal turned to him in surprise he said, "I'm coming too, Hannibal."

"Face…"

"I know where I stand in the team, Colonel," Face told him defensively, "I've always been able to do my job and it's not going to be any different this time, and no matter what you say you're not keeping me out of it, you got that?"

Both men were dumbstruck by Face's sudden outburst; B.A. returned his attention to the road so he wasn't staring, and Hannibal moved back in his seat and surprised Face by saluting him and saying, in a somber tone, "Yes sir, Lieutenant."

They found the bridge and saw that across it the MPs were all loading up the armored cars and jeeps and getting ready to move out.

"That's our cue, everybody know the plan?" Hannibal asked.

They did. B.A. buried the accelerator in the floor and they crossed the bridge at full speed ahead; the noise and the sudden appearance of another vehicle taking the uniformed men by surprise. The van screeched to a sudden stop and the doors were thrown open as the three men jumped out and immediately opened fire; true to form they fired off hundreds of rounds of ammunition within a minute but they made sure not to hit anybody, yet.

"Gentlemen," Hannibal addressed the MPs when the gunfire ceased, "Kindly drop your weapons and raise your hands above your heads, and," he adjusted his aim so he would hit the man nearest him, "I'm not going to ask twice."

Assault rifles and Desert Eagles hit the ground and hands went up as the three commandoes made their way over to the MPs. Passing by them, B.A. grabbed the helmets off a couple of men and sent them flying, regretting only that he couldn't send the heads along with them. When he did he noticed there was something about the men that didn't seem right for being members of the military police of the United States.

* * *

><p>What they found out when they got everybody disarmed and locked up and had a chance to search around the area for themselves surprised them all. They found about 50 men there, but a search turned up evidence that they were <em>not<em> authentic US army MPs, they were members of a terrorist organization that had gotten their hands on US military suits, weapons and transportation. A search of the vehicles turned up makeshift explosives and a map pointing out that several intended targets were going to be hit; the state capitol, the home of the state governor, and several churches and schools in the surrounding area as well. Apparently, the diner and the other buildings in that area that were hit the other day were only used as practice to see how much damage their bombs would be able to cause.

"It's people like you that give the US army a worse name than Lynch ever could," Hannibal sneered at one of the men as he dialed the phone he'd found inside one of the hangars.

"Hannibal," Face said, "You think there's a connection?"

"A connection?" Hannibal repeated as he turned to face the lieutenant.

"Between these guys and the trafficking ring," Face said, "Think about it, where did _they_ get the weapons, the uniforms?"

"It's possible but I doubt it," Hannibal replied, then stopped when he heard the phone on the other end of the line get picked up, "Hello? Yes, this is Colonel Francis Lynch of the United States Army, I thought you might be interested in knowing there are about 50 terrorists disguised as American soldiers with enough firepower to blow up the state of Virginia, and they're holed up here at the old hangar base just across the river. Send a chopper, you won't be able to miss the place, believe me. Uh huh, yes, I'll be right here waiting."

"Who did you call?" Face asked when Hannibal hung up the phone.

"The local army branch," Hannibal answered, "I figure they should be here within half an hour, so that gives us about 25 minutes to put as much distance between here and Chicago as possible, let's go."

Face held his gun on some of the men as they walked past, even though they were all tied up and not going anywhere, and instead of his usual lighthearted jokes of department he issued a warning, "You better pray that I never see any one of your faces again, or you're dead."

He felt Hannibal's hand on his shoulder and he heard the older man saying, "It's alright, Face, let's go, it's over…"

Over, a day late to make much difference where he was concerned, but yes it was over, and it felt like a hollow victory; although, as they walked back to the van, Face looked up in the air, saw the blue sky and a few white clouds and the birds soaring up in the air, and for a moment he thought that Murdock would've been proud.

* * *

><p>When they made their exit, Face sprawled out in the back of the van and within a few minutes of hitting the road, Hannibal was pleased to notice, he had blissfully fallen asleep. Good, maybe he would stay asleep for a while before it hit him again; they were already going to have enough trouble staying on target with their mission without Face falling apart on them again. Not that either of them could blame him if he did, but if they could at least put some distance between here and the next mark on the map, and stop somewhere for the night before the next storm hit, it would help them immensely.<p>

The storm they anticipated was one of grief and the target that was going to be hit by it was Face, but as the afternoon turned into night, a real storm hit and they found themselves in the middle of another bout of pouring down rain.

"B.A.," Hannibal said after they had been driving through the mess for an hour, "You better find someplace to just park it for the night, we don't need any accidents happening."

B.A. would've preferred to keep going for most of the night, but he did as the colonel said. They pulled up in an abandoned gas station where there were no lights, no people, and with any luck nobody passing by would notice the van, and come morning they could hit the road again.

Hannibal turned in his seat and looked at Face who was still asleep and didn't show any sign of waking up anytime soon. He was dreading the next morning when the whole mess would start over again; for all the times they had stared danger in the eyes and faced death and walked back, he honestly never gave any thought to the possibility that there would be a time where one of them didn't come back from a mission. Idealistic, sure, unrealistic perhaps, but he never considered that one of them might be killed on the job. Maybe he should've anticipated it, but he honestly couldn't see any way that it could've changed how things turned out this time.

He didn't want to think about what had happened, and he also didn't want to think about the future, about what would happen once the mission was over. What _could_ they do? They had no choice, they would have to carry on as a team of three; things would never be the same and they would be severely crippled now without Murdock's part filled, but despite this they still had a purpose to serve and that was to help people that nobody else would or could. He tried not thinking about it but it was inevitable, and it was depressing.

"Hannibal," the groggy voice drew him out of his thoughts, and he realized Face was awake.

"What is it, Face?"

He turned his head to look back at the lieutenant and saw the man barely even had his eyes open. But he reached his hand over to the front and grabbed Hannibal's arm to get his attention and asked, "What do you think happened to Murdock? I mean where do you think he is?"

Hannibal almost laughed. Apparently all the training he'd had in the orphanage with the nuns and the priests hadn't taken effect with him if he could question that now.

But it was B.A. who came to the rescue on that one, saying, "Don't worry, man, he's in the perfect place, now he can fly around all day, and he'll be happy."

The answer, simple though it was, seemed enough to please Face because he nodded and lay back down and went back to sleep. He was quiet for a while but after half an hour or so, the two men in the front could hear him mumbling again, and it was a bit straining to hear but they managed to listen as he said, "The other day when we went looking for the chopper, Murdock looked up and said 'she' was calling him, 'come home to the sky', said the chopper was calling him, I think it was his mother."

* * *

><p>Hannibal couldn't tell if he'd been asleep, or if he was just on the verge of falling asleep; it seemed his head had been swimming for a while between the two points, but he was jerked awake and his heart did a pole vault up into his throat when he heard a loud ringing noise. B.A. and Face were also waking up at this time and Hannibal saw they were still in the van, and the noise that had scared him half to death and out of his sleep was the phone.<p>

His hand was on the receiver in a second but he stalled before picking it up. His mind was starting to function logically and he was desperately trying to think who could possibly be calling them; he didn't dare give voice to the one thought he was hoping was the answer because it just didn't seem possible now. But if not that, then who was calling them? He noticed all eyes were on him and knew he had no choice, he picked up the receiver and, his hand shaking, he put it to his ear and said, "Hello?"

"Dr. Smith?"

He couldn't place the accent or the tone, but he knew that voice, and he about jumped out of his skin.

"Murdock!"

B.A.'s eyes were wide as he watched Hannibal and Face practically crawled over into the front seat when he heard the name spoken.

"Murdock, _where_ are you?" Hannibal all but screamed into the phone, "Are you alright?"

"Doctor Smith," the voice repeated, not missing a beat. It was not Murdock's usual voice, _a__ny_ of his usual voices, this one was much more serious as he said, "Doctor Smith this is David Thompson, my wife asked me to call you, she said you would make a house call, do you make house calls to motels?"

Hannibal placed his hand over the mouth piece and his eyes were rolling back and forth in his head as he was trying to figure out what Murdock was saying.

"Joan and I are staying at the Shady Lake motel, don't bother looking on a map, it's in a small town just outside of Cisne. We're in cabin 8, she's been asking for you all night, she's very sick, so if you could come out here and take a look at her, I'd really appreciate it."

"Okay, okay, we'll be out there as soon as we can," Hannibal told him, "Just hang tight."

"Oh thank you, Doctor, I really appreciate it."

Hannibal hung up the phone and told B.A., "Hit it, B.A., we've got a location."

"Murdock's alive?" Face leaned over into the front and hovered over Hannibal like a vulture.

"And apparently so is Jean," Hannibal said as he tilted his head back to see Face, "Murdock says she's sick but I'm hoping that's just a cover. It sounded like he was on a public phone and didn't want to take any chances of giving himself away."

"So where we heading, Hannibal?" B.A. asked.

"Look for a sign that says Shady Lake Motel," Hannibal told him, "We go to room 8 and move them out."

Hannibal heard a noise coming from behind him that he could only describe as horrible; a low piercing whining scream, looking up again he realized that the sound was emanating from Face's mouth just before he collapsed against the front seat, fainted dead away. Hannibal turned around and carefully grabbed Face and pushed him back down across the backseat.

"Well he took that better than I thought," Hannibal said, desperate to lighten the mood now that they seemed to have latched onto a miracle.

B.A. didn't reply to him, a minute later he said, more to himself than to Hannibal, "Making us think he' dead, when I see that fool I'm gonna kill him myself."

Hannibal's trademark smile returned as he reached into his pocket and took out a cigar and he commented, "Nice to see things getting back to normal." Though he couldn't say he didn't sympathize with B.A.; he had half a mind to wrap his own hands around Murdock's neck and throttle the man himself for putting them through this. He was sure there was a good reason for what had happened, and he expected to hear it when they got to the motel.

* * *

><p>Murdock held his breath as he returned to the street across from the motel, and he could see the man who had checked them in walking around outside while he smoked. Murdock slowly exhaled and sucked in another breath and stood straight and tall as if he was going to face down a bear instead of the motel manager; and he calmly walked back to the motel with the brown paper bag clutched in his hand. Maybe he would get lucky and he could just walk on by and get back to his room without being stopped, but that was a pipe dream. On his way back to room 8, he about collided with the manager, and he just smiled and said simply, "The little wife needed some more wine." He laughed sheepishly and headed back to his room; chancing one glance back to see if the man had returned to the front desk, and was relieved to see that he had.<p>

"Lu-u-u-cy, I'm ho-o-o-o-me," Murdock called out as he took out his key and unlocked the door and went in, lowly singing a couple of notes from 'Red Red Wine' as he shut the door behind him and relocked it.

The lights were low but Murdock was able to see that the bed was empty and hadn't been slept in. He spotted his jacket draped over the footboard of the bed, and he put the paper bag down on the bed and went over to the bathroom. Pushing the door open, he turned on the light and saw Jean leaning against the tub with her feet on the floor and her knees up to her chest, and she truly looked sick.

"Did anybody come?" he asked as he went over to her.

Jean weakly shook her head. Murdock knelt down on the floor beside her and felt her forehead; still warm but it didn't feel serious. He helped her up and walked her back out to the bedroom and got her on the bed and put a cold cloth on her forehead and told her, "I talked to Hannibal, he said they're going to be here soon and they're going to pick us up."

"Good, then we can get out of here," Jean murmured.

Murdock went to the window, pulled back the curtains and looked out; no sign of anybody, no lights, no cars, no people, that suited him just fine. He closed the curtains again and went back to the bed and picked up his jacket, feeling around in the pocket he pulled out the handgun he always kept in it. He opened it up and checked the number of bullets still in it, obviously it hadn't seen any use since he'd left the room. He closed it up and stuck it back in his pocket; he doubted if even his teammates knew about the gun, that was one secret he liked to keep from people. He wasn't big on keeping secrets from the team but decided there were some things that the less they knew about, the better it would be for all of them; at least if none of them knew about his spare gun, nobody else could either. Every time Face helped him bust out of the VA he was always able to stop off somewhere and pick it up from wherever he had hidden it before returning to the VA the last time. Then he went over to the side of the bed and told Jean, "You might as well try and rest until they get here."

"Where're they coming from?" Jean asked.

"I don't know," Murdock answered as he tried to cover her with the top sheet, but she pushed it away.

Jean forced her eyes open, only slightly, and she said, "Think you were wrong?"

"It doesn't matter," Murdock told her, "Either way when we get out of here we're going to find those miserable excuses for mammals and decommission them."

Jean nodded slightly and closed her eyes again. Murdock sat down on the bed beside her and grabbed her hand in his and gave it a slight squeeze as he thought about everything that had happened in the last day.

"Murdock," Jean said weakly as she tilted her head back against the pillows.

"Yeah, Saint?" he asked, trying to smile for her benefit incase she opened her eyes.

"I'm sorry you got dragged into this mess," she said, "It was my problem from the beginning."

"No, darling," Murdock said as he lowered his head and lightly pressed his forehead against hers, "This is a lot bigger than just you, hell it's even bigger than B.A."

"Not…your…concern," she replied and he could tell she was almost asleep.

Murdock smiled as he removed the cloth and kissed her on the forehead and said, his customary lighthearted tone back in place to try and lighten the mood, "Oh honey you ought to know by now that that's never stopped us before."

All the same, he couldn't help but think about just how he was going to explain this one to the others; he wondered if they would believe him, if he hadn't lived through the events of the past 30 hours and seen it all with his own eyes, he would never believe it himself.


	15. Chapter 15

Murdock knew the second that he turned back around and went for Jean that there wasn't going to be any way the others could afford to wait on him. The MPs were in front of the diner and the van was in the back, and they had to make a quick getaway, and fast though he was, he knew he couldn't get both of them out fast enough for them all to escape together. The others would have to leave without him, and he knew they would, and he accepted that; he was going to have to find another way out of this mess. The heat was on his back and he realized that their path to the back door was now blocked by the fire and they would have to get out another way. He never even slowed down as he came back to Jean, he reached down, grabbed her to her feet and half dragged her alongside him as he ran through another corridor. The WHOOSH of the flames was deafening as a new wave of heat and fire washed over the whole building, they were fortunate to be in a pocket where the fire hadn't consumed everything yet but they were running out of time.

He found a side window that the glass had exploded out of and knew it was their only escape. He slowed down enough to grab Jean and pick her up, only a few inches off the ground but enough that she became disoriented and was screaming at him as he forced her over to the window and dropped her out of it, following right behind her a second later. He hit the ground outside, grabbed Jean by the left arm and took off running. There weren't any MPs in sight, and there weren't any jeeps, but there also wasn't any van either; he wasn't really surprised, he knew the others couldn't wait on him if they were going to get away. They ran behind the diner and beyond that was another wooded area that they disappeared into, never slowing down but making sure not to run into any trees or fall in any holes in the ground.

By his own estimation they must've run for two miles before they came out of the woods and saw a road ahead; there wasn't time to worry if it led to another abandoned town or not, but they quickly got the answer when they were almost run over by a semi heading their way at 50 miles an hour.

"Thank God, finally people!" Jean said.

Murdock looked up the road and down it and didn't see any other traffic coming but they were starting to make progress. Still, he didn't believe in slowing down now, he resumed the choker hold on her arm and dragged her across the street, turned at a corner and ran down the hill the road was on. After covering six more blocks, Murdock came to a stop when he saw something down below.

"You see that?" he pointed.

Jean squinted to see down that far, "Railroad tracks?"

"And red lights," Murdock added, "Meaning a train's running."

"Think it's a train station?" Jean asked.

"Well," Murdock waited and watched the cars pass by, "It don't look like no freighter."

"We get on a train now, is that it?" Jean was almost laughing, but Murdock could tell it was just from her nerves being shot. She sank down to the ground and sat down on asphalt and said, "We're going to need money for tickets." She reached into her shirt to see how much money she had left but Murdock lightly slapped her hand and instead reached inside of his jacket and took some money out from two hidden pockets.

That was something else that nobody ever knew about him; when he traveled, he always had money on him, he just never showed it. Since he lived at the V.A. he didn't encounter as many cost-of-living problems as the others did on the outside, so for the times they actually _did_ get paid on a job he was able to keep most of his money. He also knew to keep it all in different places, so he kept two hundred in his jacket, one hundred in his front pants pocket, and a hundred dollar bill in each of his shoes, where nobody sane and few crazy would ever think to look.

"Come on," Murdock pulled her back to her feet and started down the hill, "Let's see what's leaving the station soon."

"I don't get it," Jean told him, "Where're we going?"

"Look, Hannibal and the others couldn't wait around on us because they had to get away from the MPs, so it stands to reason that what they're going to do now is keep on in the same direction to the next place Hannibal marked on the map, which is Cisne. Why anybody's going there, I don't know, but that's a few miles northwest of here, so we find a train heading out that general direction. Of course with the way B.A. drives we won't be able to catch up to them, but we'll be in the general area and it'll be easier to make contact with them for them to double back and get us. The main thing is we keep moving because they're already moving, and you can be sure the MPs are moving too…and this is where we might get a break because who's going to look for a couple of fugitives on a train in this town?"

"You mean they'll know we didn't burn up in the fire?" Jean asked.

"Eventually that fire's going to go out, and when it does they can tear the place apart and look for bones and if they don't find any, they're going to know we got away somehow," Murdock told her.

Jean hung her head low and her eyes were only half open as she said, "I just don't get it, how did they know we were there? And why were they trying to kill us?"

"I don't know," he said. He turned and looked at her and reached his arm around her upper back and he added, "But don't worry, honey, as long as you's traveling with Howling Mad Murdock, you' in good hands…and feet, and tonsils."

Jean laughed and pushed his hand away and said, "I got a question, why would any mother name her child Howling Mad?"

"Ah," Murdock recalled with the utmost fondness, "My mother was a one of a kind woman she was she was she was."

* * *

><p>They'd gotten two tickets for the first train heading west and they found a place to sit that was rather secluded and nobody sat within five feet of them. A few minutes after pulling out of the station, Jean leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes and in a short while was asleep. Murdock was glad for that because he needed time to think. In the A-Team they all had their own functions: he was the pilot, Face was the conman who scammed them anything and everything they needed, B.A. was a combination of muscle, intimidation, and mechanical genius, and Hannibal was the man with the plan. Well Hannibal wasn't here now, so this time it was on Murdock to come up with the plan. And anything that they needed between here and when they met up with the others again, he was going to have to find some way to get it or scam it himself.<p>

Looking out the window, he realized that by the time the train stopped and they got off, it would be starting to get dark, so they might have to stop off somewhere for the night. Wherever they stopped he'd look for a motel where they could get a room, and they'd be able to stay out of sight for a few hours while he pieced together the next part of his plan. He knew that it would be very easy to find out if the others beat him there first, as much as they liked to believe they were hidden in plain sight, it was actually very easy to find out if anybody recalled seeing four very different looking men arrive in a black GMC van with a red bar on it. Murdock smirked as he recalled one time that B.A. threatened to knock him clear into the next month after he made the comment that their choice of transportation couldn't be anymore obvious if they'd tied a canoe on the top.

So, when they stopped off for the night, he'd find them a place to stay, and find a payphone so he could call the van without having to worry about the line being tapped, and he'd also keep his eyes and ears open to see if anybody mentioned any new people in town. That seemed simple enough, of course they'd been through too many of Hannibal's plans over the years to know if it seemed simple, something was bound to go wrong; but he'd have to blow up that bridge when he came to it. If only he'd been able to get his hands on that copter back at the base, everything would've been so much easier. He turned to Jean who had slumped to the side and was leaning against him and he nudged her and asked her, "Saint, would you want to go up in a helicopter sometime?"

Jean's eyes were closed but he knew he heard a small 'mm-hmm' sound from her.

He grinned and said, "We'll have to go sometime, you ain't scared to fly like the angry mudsucker, is you?"

Jean made a short 'mmm' sound as her head moved slightly to the side, he took it as a no. He put his arm around her but quickly drew it back when he felt how warm her arm was. Leaning over he saw that her right arm, the same one that had been caught on the barbed wire, was bright pink and seemed to be slightly swollen; then Murdock realized that the right side of her face looked exactly the same, and he flashed on Richard Dreyfuss in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. He knew that the burn had to have come from the fire, but he also knew that she hadn't been hit by the flames during the explosion, but the heat alone could very well have been responsible for that. They had been in such a hurry to get out of there, no, _he_ had been in such a hurry to get out of there, that he never stopped to see or even ask if she was alright. But whatever she had been going through at the time, she never said one word about it, but why was only one side of her burnt? He supposed that as he dragged her along to the window, his body must've shielded the left half of hers; at the time he hadn't even felt anything because he didn't have time to think about it, the only thing on his mind at that time had been getting both of them out alive. So he had another thing to add on his list of what to do when they came to the station, he would also have to find a drugstore that sold burn cream.

* * *

><p>Murdock decided the best thing for them to do first was find a motel to check into for the night; and they found one about a mile from the station. It was already getting dark and he was hoping that would work in their favor. In and out of the V.A. over the years he had gone through a couple hundred different identities and personas, some were people of his own creating and others were of people he had always wanted to be; none ever lasted more than a few days at best because he found out he really didn't <em>like<em> being anybody else, but he still couldn't help trying on a new role every so often either.

That was one thing he envied about Face, the man went through new identities like they were Kleenex, and each one fit him so perfectly; though most were similar, they all had to be rich so he could continue with his endless parade of expensive suits, beautiful women, $600 bottles of wine, fancy cars, it all fit Face like a glove. Aside from priests he never really played anybody who wouldn't belong in the upper class breed of people; but Murdock always thought that was a rather boring way to live, essentially playing the same people over and over and over again, where was the fun in that? But maybe that was why it was so easy for Face to maintain his different identities, because they were all so similar; Murdock on the other hand went through somebody entirely different every time, and he tried to like them but he never really did, but it never stopped him from trying somebody new whenever he got the notion either.

Well, tonight he was going to have to try another new identity, and it was going to have to be something completely different from what all the rest had been. He needed a few minutes to put it together, so they stopped at a gas station and he went into the men's room to wash up. He looked at himself in the spider web cracked mirror; he rubbed cold water on his face and wetted down his hair to make it lie down flat in the back. Already he didn't like this new person he was going to be, he didn't like him at all, there was something about this character that he could sense a hint of evil within; perhaps somebody that had the potential to be a serial killer. He needed a name, but what? Something that wasn't too obvious, wouldn't attract much attention, something that couldn't be checked.

He tried a new voice for this character, that also had to be something new and different; nothing humorous, or lighthearted, he tried a deeper, more somber voice, trying to sound smooth, suave, debonair. That stuff might've worked for Face but hearing it come out of his own mouth only creeped him out; he even sounded like somebody that could be a cold blooded killer.

A name came to him, and he spoke again in his new voice, calm, borderline flat, very serious, "Hi," he said to his reflection, watching how the muscles in his face moved as he spoke, "I'm David Thompson." It sounded good, it went with this character that struck him as being a little bit psychotic; the best kind of psychotic, one who could blend in and pass himself off as being just like everyone else.

Leaving the restroom, he found Jean and had her put on his jacket and put his blue cap on her head before deciding that was overdoing it; he took the cap off and stuffed it inside his jacket and looked her up and down.

"That'll work," he told her, "Just keep back by the door and let me do all the talking. And remember, my name is David Thompson."

"And what's mine if they ask?" Jean asked.

He thought for a minute and decided, "Joan."

"Very simple but it should work," she agreed.

"Alright, let's go darling," Murdock said as he intertwined his arm with hers and they left the gas station.

They found a motel that was only a few blocks away from Main Street where all the late night businesses were. Murdock had a sensation of pins and needles in his neck and back as they went to register; he felt like there were a million wanted posters of him all over the place and he was just hoping his disguise fooled them. He watched the manager behind the desk and tried to see if there was anything in his movement or his facial features that gave away anything; did he know, did he suspect, did he detect something was off? As far as he could tell, this man didn't have the slightest clue what was going on, and he was all for keeping it that way. The light was dim so that also worked in their favor; Jean stayed by the door like he'd told her and kept her back to them. Murdock strolled over to the desk and folded his arms on the top and said, in his newfound voice, sounding oh so smooth and oh so slick, and just the teensiest bit psychotic, "Hi, we'd like a room for the night."

"We?" the man repeated.

Murdock turned around and saw the problem, Jean was too far back in the dark to really be seen.

"Uh, dear," he said, sounding ever so slightly annoyed, "Would you mind turning around and showing the nice gentleman that you have a face?"

Jean turned slightly to the side so they could catch her profile, but she quickly turned away again. Murdock smirked as he turned back to the manager, "You know how new brides are, always so uptight, though," he said with a huff, "I can't really say I blame her, after the day we've had both our nerves are completely shot to hell." He knew there had to be a damn good reason why a newlywed couple would check in _anywhere_ without any luggage and he told the man, "Anything that can go wrong does, what is that, Murphy's Law? Somebody must've changed the family name, we get married this afternoon, my genius brother tells me he's got a great spot picked out for our honeymoon, only a 50 mile drive, a nice little secluded place in the middle of nowhere. So what do we do? Well for one thing I _listen_ to the damn idiot and we pack our bags and hit the road, well, I should've known anything he came up with couldn't be any good. But I didn't, and we're sure as hell paying for it now. We get 10 miles from home and the car starts sounding like the whole thing is being rammed through a trash masher and then the next thing I know we are skidding along on three tires before finally crashing into a ditch off the side of the road. Of course we _had_ to have the top down so when the car went flying, so did our luggage, and who knows where the hell that is now? So we're stuck waiting to hear back from the garage and have no choice but to stop off somewhere for the night and this was the first place we saw. I tell you pal it's one hell of a way to start a marriage and I'm hoping things can only get better from here or I'm seriously thinking of shooting myself." He laughed to add a little humor to the black situation he seemed to be in the middle of.

Since they didn't have any luggage he had to pay $20 in advance, he did, and they were given the key to cabin 8; the manager showed them the way, outside they were caught in the blinding illumination from the streetlamps and Murdock felt like they were shining right through him so he could be seen inside and out like an X-ray and that if the man turned around, he'd be able to see inside of him and know his secret.

"Thank you," he said when the man opened the door to their cabin, and turning to Jean he elbowed her and added, "Say thank you, darling."

Jean only waved to the manager. Murdock laughed and said, "Well I never said I married a _polite_ woman."

Jean moved for the door but Murdock grabbed her by the sleeve of his jacket and jerked her back. Purely for show, he picked her up in his arms and carried her into the room, and when he saw the manager heading back to the front desk, he put her down and closed the door behind him.

"You think he suspected anything?" Jean asked.

Murdock peered out the window to make sure nobody was watching them. "Well," he said, "If anything he's probably wondering why I married somebody who's practically young enough to be my daughter, but that's none of his business and I'm guessing it wouldn't be the first time he's seen it either."

Jean shrugged and took off his jacket and, turning it around so she could see the back, asked Murdock, "What does Da Nang mean anyway?"

He turned and looked at her; this was the problem with only having one person on hand instead of a whole team, he had to get out of here and find out where the nearest payphone was so he could contact the others when he knew they were in the area, but he didn't want to chance her going with him and he didn't like the idea of leaving her here alone either.

"Look Saint," he said, "I need to take a look around the area and see what our options are here, are you going to be alright here by yourself for a while?"

"Yeah, sure," she said dismissively, apparently she didn't possess the imagination he did to consider what danger they might be in.

He went over to her and took his jacket and felt around in the inside pockets and pulled out his gun; meeting her gaze he saw that she was starting to realize the gravity of the situation. He held it out to her and told her, "If you have to, you _use_ it."

Jean let out a cynical laugh and said as she took the gun, "You might as well tell the sun to rise in the morning." She held the gun and explained, "By now this is as natural to me as breathing."

Murdock still felt guilty about leaving her alone, but he would rather she stay out of sight, if anybody recognized him that was one thing; if the army caught him, all they could do was send him back to the V.A. since he had been declared mentally incompetent to have participated in the bank robbery 10 years ago, _if_ he was alone, if Jean was caught with him there was no telling what might happen to her. He forced in a large breath as he turned to go for the door, but before he could take a step in that direction he reached over and grabbed Jean and pulled her into a tight hug and told her, "You watch yourself, I'll be back soon."

"I'll be here," she said assuredly.

He sincerely hoped so.

* * *

><p>Eight blocks down from the motel he was able to find a drugstore, a diner, and around from there was a payphone right outside a liquor store; so far there wasn't anything being said among the natives about any newcomers in town who looked out of place, so, while Murdock couldn't understand it he accepted that the team simply just hadn't arrived yet. They would have to pass through soon, so he would wait until morning and <em>then<em> see if anybody talked about spotting them. In the meantime he paid a visit to the drug store, picked up a bottle of aloe vera lotion for burns, a new roll of gauze, a new bottle of peroxide, a bottle of rubbing alcohol; they had been forcibly stripped down to the gears when they had to escape so he'd have to restock on all the medical supplies they'd had before.

And a few others. He had noticed that Jean was still having trouble moving around though she tried to cover it; and as covered in bruises as Hannibal had said she was, he bet they hadn't gone away yet, so he also picked up a tube of Deep Heat, though he could well anticipate the fight that would ensure then since she clearly wouldn't be able to apply it herself to some areas. It made his stomach turn to think that if she lifted up her shirt, he would see a mess of black and blue and purple and yellow marks all over her body, and why? Because she had tried to pass herself off as him. She couldn't possibly have known what the MPs would've done to him if they'd actually caught him, and even if so she had put her own life on the line to save his neck. Despite all the people he'd beaten up in fights over the years, he did not consider himself a violent person, but knowing what Jean had already been put through and how much of it was due to her involvement with them, it made him see red and his hands clenched up and he wanted to taste blood, MP blood. He wanted to track down every last man responsible for the beating she'd taken in his place and kill them all; maybe they hadn't known that she wasn't him, but what did that prove? They beat a woman half to death and just left her laying bloody and bruised in the street to work her way back to where she'd come from; and _they_ were supposed to be the bad guys, the traitors to their country?

He couldn't possibly get mad at her for what she had done, but he had to wonder what went through her own mind after that night? She was the one who had to see the damage every night when she undressed, she wouldn't let anybody else see what had happened; he remembered how she became when she woke up and realized Hannibal had drugged her so he and Face could examine her. Yes, it had to be done, but no doubt when she found out what had happened, it had left her feeling violated to some degree, the only question was could they possibly have done anymore or any worse damage than the MPs did when they beat her like a dog? What did she think when she saw herself and saw what had been done to her? If she bore any anger within herself for it, she made sure it never showed through; she had a mask as firmly set into place as Face did, he felt certain she would never let anybody see what really went on behind those trained eyes that knew not to give anything away.

And yet, something had happened, there was a chink in her armor now where there hadn't been one before, and they were it. Six months of isolation and solitude had all come crashing down in a matter of days, and now she was surrounded by people again; people who never took no for an answer and kept chipping away at the surface until they just bore a hole clear through the chest and reached out the back. She stayed on her guard but somewhere along the way she had let her defenses down low enough for them to slip through the barricade. She was aware of the intrusion but Murdock doubted that she truly resented it as much as she let on; he thought that she was secretly relieved that there was finally someone that she could confide in and trust, even if she didn't fully trust them, that she did at all was a start. And if the last few days were any proof, some progress had been made because she seemed to trust them very much, despite her protests that they only got in her way and interrupted her plans.

After the drugstore, he went over to the diner and got a couple of hamburgers and potato chips to go for dinner; once they'd gotten out of the line of fire and the adrenaline had time to die down, he realized they hadn't eaten since breakfast. Before heading back, he went around to the payphone to see if at this time of night there were a lot of people using it; there wasn't anybody using it at the moment, but so he didn't draw any attention to himself by just standing around gawking, he went past the phone and into the liquor store, and came out a few minutes later with a chilled bottle of wine in his bag. If he encountered that man from the motel again, he decided this might make them look just the tiniest bit more convincing, what was a wedding night without champagne?

By the time Murdock got back to the motel, he got in the door and saw Jean sitting in a chair by the bed with his gun in hand aimed right at him. When she saw who it was she immediately lowered it into her lap. He was glad to know that she was on her guard but he couldn't help commenting, "Maybe next time I should yell first."

"Where've you been?" Jean asked as she stood up.

"I got us dinner," Murdock answered as he gave her the sack with the burgers in it. He dumped the other two bags on the bed and walked past her as he said, "I'll be back in a minute."

He disappeared into the bathroom, closed the door behind him and all was quiet for a minute, then Jean's attention was drawn to the door and the screams that were coming from within. She went over to the door and listened as Murdock yelled and grunted and groaned, followed by a series of animalistic noises. Half of her mind was telling her to get away from the door but she had to know what was going on, she turned the knob just as the door got yanked open and Murdock stepped out again, his body covered in sweat and his hair standing up and sticking out on all sides like he'd been hit by lightning. The sounds he was making now where akin to if he'd just come out of a surgery with no option of anesthesia and was relieved that the cutting had finally come to an end.

"Are you alright?" Jean asked him.

Murdock huffed and puffed like an asthmatic big bad wolf a few times until it seemed he was going to pass out, then he answered, "Yeah, I'm fine. I am _now_."

Yes, _now_, now that David Thompson was gone and Howling Mad Murdock was back; gone was the calm voice and the slicked back hair and the icy stare in the eyes, now he was free to be his usual crazy self again with a crazy appearance and a rapidly changing assortment of cartoon voices. Murdock dug through the inside of his jacket and found his blue baseball cap and tightly pressed it onto his head and had a dazed look on his face like he was Superman slowly being dug out of a house of Kryptonite blocks one piece at a time and his power was slowly being restored to him.

He _hated_ David Thompson, he didn't like being that man at all, and he wished he never had to be him again, though he knew as long as they stayed here, if anybody came he would have to do a repeat performance. But for the time being anyway, at least for tonight he could shed that psychotic role like a snake's old skin and relax into his true self; the one that begged to run around like a chicken with its head cut off and climb the walls and randomly burst into song at a moment's notice, _this_ was the true Murdock and he was glad to be back. That was the difference, Murdock was just crazy, but David Thompson was a straight out psychotic; there _was_ a difference.

He didn't like playing this new character at all, it was like having a bad taste in his mouth only it spread into a bad feeling in his whole body. It made him want to crawl out of his skin just to be absolutely sure he was rid of that feeling, that person. And he would've settled for an improvisation; if Jean wasn't here with him he would tear off his clothes and leap around the room like Tarzan, howling and pounding his chest the entire time.

"I'm alright," he assured her, "I'll just like it when we can get out of here, waiting around here like this is going to drive me normal." He cringed and shuddered at that thought.

Jean smiled and put her arms around him as if to show she sympathized with him, but what she said next surprised him, "Do you believe in possession, Murdock?"

"I believe in exorcism," he said, and looked down at her, "Why?"

"That name that you gave them at the front desk, I hope they don't try running a make on it," Jean said, "I recall there being a David Thompson in the newspaper a while back, he...he killed his older brother for the family fortune and tried to frame his younger brother for it."

Now that was spooky. "But I never even heard of the guy," he told her, "How could I pick his name out of nowhere?"

"Just bad luck," Jean decided, "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

"No I think it's something else," Murdock said, "I think he's channeling me from death row." He took a step back, hissed and held his hands out like claws as if he was warding off the evil presence.

* * *

><p>They ate, and after dinner Murdock subjected Jean to a mild examination as he changed the bandage on her arm and covered her burns in the cold aloe cream and, after some debate, convinced her to lie facedown on the bed while he applied the heat rub to the bruises on the lower portion of her back; which he was only mildly relieved to find were starting to turn yellow and green and fade away.<p>

"I just don't get it," he said as he pulled her shirt back down, "Why did you do it? You _could_ have been killed you know."

"I know it," she replied as she rolled on her side and looked back at him, "My life never meant anything before, maybe it would serve a purpose in death. But when I saw the guerillas lurking around I knew I had to do _something _to throw them off target. I couldn't let them find you."

Murdock didn't respond either in words, or in actions, but he stayed in the same spot where he stood and looked at her, and finally asked her, "Don't your shoulders ever get tired holding up the whole planet?"

Jean coughed and remarked, "What can I say? I happen to think the good guys deserve to win, I'm funny like that."

She balled her hand over her mouth as she continued coughing, but it only got worse, to the point she was doubled over on the bed.

"Are you alright?" Murdock asked as he patted her on the back.

She cleared her throat and said, "Yeah, I think I'm just getting a cold."

On top of everything else. Murdock's eyes rolled up to see the ceiling and he tried to see past it, not saying anything but all the same questioning if this was supposed to be some kind of joke. He picked up the other bag from the bed and pulled out the bottle of wine.

"What's that for?" Jean asked.

"Uh," he tried to remember, "It _was_ a prop for the whole newlywed thing, but I think now it's going to be put to medicinal use."

"Why not?" Jean replied, "I got no objections, I can drink wine."

Murdock noted she didn't say she liked it. But he figured if she could swallow the harder stuff that she did, this ought to go down rather smoothly. Of course, if there were any problems with that, there was always plan B, also in the bag he had gotten a small bottle of whiskey; the same stuff she'd had in her bag when she first met up with them, and he recalled she'd never gotten it back since Hannibal had them hide it. Just like her pills, and Murdock also noticed that she hadn't been demanding to get them back either for the past few days.

"Who knows?" he said as he took a couple of plastic glasses out of the bag as well and started to open the bottle, "One miracle started _with_ wine, maybe another will come about _from_ it."

Jean smiled weakly and commented, "John chapter 2 verse 9, and Jesus turned the water into wine, people would do well to remember that instead of constantly associating alcohol with the devil. He may go with you into the bar but that's why I drink at home."

He poured her glass, and himself one to join her with; they held their glasses up in a mock toast and Murdock said, "To your health."

"Or more appropriately," she said, "Here's mud in your eye."

They clanked their glasses and drank. Murdock laid on the bed beside her and they just looked up at the ceiling for a while, occasionally saying something to each other every couple of minutes. Murdock looked over and saw she was half asleep but knew the other half wouldn't be joining the first anytime soon. So, since neither was in the mood to go to sleep yet and there wasn't anything else to do, he entertained her for a couple of hours by telling her about some of the previous missions the A-Team had been on, exaggerating in parts where he thought it might actually make her laugh, and a few times it did.

The one that took the cake was when he told her about he time he put on a white wedding dress and walked down the aisle to marry a man named Calvin Cuttor, only to leave him at the altar. Jean was already laughing to the point she couldn't talk anymore, but for a little extra dramatic effect Murdock took a handkerchief out of his jacket and blew his nose like a foghorn as he crocodile tearily explained, "I feel so guilty for walking out on him at our wedding, always a bridesmaid and never a bride, I finally get my chance to _be_ the bride and I leave him at the altar, will I never learn?"

Jean rolled around on her side of the bed laughing until she could hardly breathe. After a few minutes she stopped laughing and started choking, and Murdock helped her into the bathroom where she spent the next half hour coughing up black stuff that Murdock figured had to have built up when they were in the fire, and for some reason she was only now getting it out. One hell of a delayed reaction in his opinion.

Once she stopped coughing and was able to stand up again, Murdock walked her back into the bedroom and helped her back into the bed. He started to remove her boots but she pushed him away and insisted she could do it herself. Likewise, Murdock untied his Converse sneakers and put them down by his side of the bed, and he reached over and shut off the lights and hoped that they would be able to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>Murdock woke up with a coughing fit of his own, his however he attributed to a dry throat. He went into the bathroom and got a drink of water, on the way back he saw the clock and saw that it was 5:30 in the morning. Looking back to the bed he saw Jean was curled on her side still asleep, but he also noticed that something didn't look right about the lump on the other side of the bed. He went over to get a closer look and saw that sometime during the night, Jean had grabbed his jacket and was hugging it in a death grip like it was a teddy bear; her arm was draped over the tiger on the back. He hadn't heard anything from her during the night, he hoped that meant she slept well; still half asleep himself, he wandered over to the window and drew back the curtain to see if anything was going on outside in the dark.<p>

Uh-oh, he couldn't see the blue and red lights but he knew a police car when he saw one and one was parked outside the motel right now. He watched to see if anybody was out there or if anybody was coming; he didn't see anyone, and he wondered what was going on. Apparently the cop was still in the car because after a minute he saw the headlights come on and the car pulled out of there and went slowly down the street and disappeared.

Murdock let the curtain fall back into place and he backed away from the window, and over to the bed where he promptly woke Jean up to see if she was in any condition to be moved if they had to make a quick getaway. She had a fever and still had a cough and also complained of a headache; but it wasn't going to be detrimental to her health if he grabbed her up and tried to exit stage left anytime soon if need be. He put his shoes on and slipped his gun into the waistband of his pants and went back to the window and watched for a while to see if anybody came back. He didn't see anybody outside, and no cars came by, of course that didn't mean that there wasn't somebody already there just waiting for the right moment to strike. Maybe it would've been in both their interests to get out of there right now and see how far they could get, but he wasn't wont to panic when things looked bleak and he wouldn't start now either. They would wait and see what was going on, maybe it wasn't about them at all.

Then another thought occurred to him, maybe the others were in town now and the police were on the lookout for them. But that didn't make any sense because the team wouldn't know to come to the motel, or would they? No, they couldn't possibly have figured it out, and he knew he hadn't called anybody last night. He decided he would wait a while and then go out, once again as the dreaded David Thompson, and see what he could find out from the morning gossip.

A few hours later, he decided it was time enough that he could go out and wouldn't draw much attention to himself. Much as he dreaded it, he left his jacket and his blue cap behind with Jean, as well as his gun, issuing the same advice he had last night, if anybody came in, or tried to, she was to use it and get herself out as fast as she could. Now that she was sick he _really_ felt bad about leaving her alone but couldn't see any way around it. He also _really_ wished _now_ that the others were here because they could get out of here and find a new place to lay low until further notice; but first things first, he had to find out if they were already in town and had been spotted, once he found that out he could better determine what they were going to do.

He took his time getting through the downtown area for a better chance to pick up on any news; he picked up a copy of the morning paper, he stopped in at the drug store again and picked up some medicine he figured Jean would need for later, and went into a diner and got two breakfasts bagged up to take back to the motel. Through it all he heard a few dozen people talking amongst themselves and never heard anything about three men in a strange van coming into town. So maybe they'd lucked out, nobody was looking for them yet because nobody had seen them yet, but then where were they? They were coming out this way and with the way B.A. drove they should've been here over 12 hours ago. And if nobody was on the lookout for them, why had that cop car been prowling around the motel? That was the stone that sat on his stomach the heaviest; if they'd been waiting for him to leave and they crowded in and ambushed Jean, he couldn't think about that because he couldn't get back there any faster than he was.

When he returned he felt like he could breathe again, everything was just as it was when he left, there wasn't anybody or anything around that shouldn't be; he especially noted there wasn't a convoy of cop cars surrounding the place, or military transportation either for that matter. He went back into their room and found Jean hadn't moved from where she lay on the bed, her arms brought up so her hands covered her eyes to block out the light, her headache was only getting worse. Her cough had gotten considerably worse and now Murdock could hear a rattle in her chest that went all the way up to her throat, like she had swallowed a rock and was trying to breathe around it.

He tried to get her to eat something on the grounds of once she had something in her stomach she'd be able to take some medicine. She ate half of her breakfast before pushing it away and lying back down on the bed. Murdock watched her for a couple of minutes as he decided what to do; finally, he looked at the medicine he'd picked up at the drugstore, and put it away and instead he reached into his pocket and took out the bottle of the Hydromorphone pills, took one of the tablets out and gave it to Jean, who took it dry, and she said nothing, but her eyes did all the talking for her. Murdock was tempted to warn her not to get used to it again, but he said nothing since he couldn't promise that. Depending on how much pain she was in she could very well need more of these before the day was over.

* * *

><p>Jean slept on and off through the day, and Murdock kept a constant watch at the window to see if anybody was out there. A couple of times he saw a police car drive by very slowly but it didn't look like the cops inside were looking his way. After lunch he caught a glimpse of a different car going by, and this one really made him feel uneasy, he recognized the logo on the driver's side door as belonging to the Illinois National Guard.<p>

"If it's not us, then what the hell are they hanging around here for?" he asked himself.

Then an idea hit him and he went over to the small TV on the other side of the room and turned it to the lower news channels; and he caught a breaking news story and quit pressing the buttons to see what it was. A most unusual sight caught his attention; the MPs were being loaded into the backs of police cars handcuffed. Then the scene switched to a woman reporter who explained, "Because the terrorists had not undergone any formal military training or preparation, it is being written up as a matter for the police and the courts instead of the United States Army. In the meantime, local police and the National Guard are spreading their manpower across the state to ensure that no members of the terrorist organization are still at large, and that no bombs have been set in the surrounding churches and schools; and despite claims that Colonel Francis Lynch of the US Army called in the report himself this morning, the tip to the army is officially remaining anonymous."

Murdock woke Jean up to see the story on TV, they saw aerial shots of the base as well as the chopper, the jeeps, the armored cars and closeup shots the cameramen got of crates full of Molotov cocktails and bombs.

"That's why they're not here yet," Murdock told her, "They found out the people that tried to kill us yesterday weren't real MPs, they were terrorists."

"And you can be sure," Jean said, "The heat's on now and since the whole damn militia's out, this area's going to be too hot for them to come to. Hopefully though that'll also mean Grant has to stay where he is too."

"Oh don't worry about the guys," Murdock assured her, "Hannibal isn't going to let the National Guard stop him from coming through here."

"And you really think that they did this?" Jean asked as she pointed to the TV.

"Who else? It's got our name written all over it, saving children and little old ladies who only drive to church on Sundays, and who else would call in the report as Colonel Lynch?"

"True," she said, "So I guess it's a good thing they didn't wait for us yesterday after all."

"I told you it would all work out," Murdock said, "And everything's going to be fine."

* * *

><p>As the day got later and turned into evening and then to night, Murdock started to get worried about Jean; she fell asleep for hours at a time and during which she lapsed into full body sweats and moaned and at some point she started vibrating on the bed. He had seen The Exorcist 30 times at the VA and this wasn't that, but all the same he could see her body bobbing up and down against the mattress oh so slightly and the sound it made was something awful. Earlier in the day he had tried some of the medicine he got from the drugstore but when that ran out of her system he instead relied on some old home remedies and managed to get some whiskey down her throat. He knew she'd had plenty of the stuff before but was still anticipating her spitting it in his face, but she surprised him and it went down as smoothly as water.<p>

He checked the news coverage on the TV again and saw that a lot of the statewide searching was already being called off and he decided it would be safe enough now to call the others and have them come in. He couldn't wait to tell Hannibal and the others how proud he was of them, this time they weren't even on a mission and they managed to bring a whole terrorist group to its knees, things were looking up for them! Once again he knew that would mean going out, because he didn't trust calling from the phone here; he wasn't sure that with the police lurking around earlier that they didn't tap the lines for the motel. Of course one more trip out meant going as David Thompson again; but this time he was going out simply to use the payphone by the liquor store, he wasn't going to be dillydallying around so maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Once again hew as met with the moral dilemma of leaving a sick woman alone, unattended and unprotected. He got an idea, as long as Jean was asleep she couldn't fight his plan; he went over to the bed and picked Jean up in his arms and carried her into the bathroom and laid her down on the floor with a pillow under her. He ran one of the washcloths under the cold faucet and stuck it to her forehead. If she woke up after he left, she would probably return to the bed, but this way if anybody did come in, they wouldn't see any proof that anybody was in the room or had been, and they might leave without checking the bathroom. Least of all she wouldn't be in plain sight incase somebody busted in the door. He left his gun behind incase she woke up because she would need it more than he would.

It was cooler tonight than the last and he regretted also leaving his jacket behind, but knew that anybody deliberately looking for H.M. Murdock would spot him by that as Jean had already proven, so he just kept walking until he was down at the payphone. He put a dime in and dialed the number of the van's phone, and though he didn't think anybody was around_ here_ listening in on him, he decided not to take any chances. So for the last time, he assumed the straight laced David Thompson voice, hoping it would still be recognizable to the team, and decided a cover would help, so since Jean was sick he called on for Dr. Smith to come and see his sick wife Joan at the motel. If anybody _would_ be paying attention to the call from his end, who would possibly question that?

He had been thrilled to hear Hannibal's voice and he was tempted to break character and tell them all how proud he was of them, but knew it would have to wait. He also couldn't help but notice that Hannibal sounded shocked to hear from him. Well, he shrugged it off, they were just going to come through and search the area for them, they hadn't counted on him calling them and making the first move. Hannibal said they would be there soon, and he knew Hannibal never lied to him; so he paid one more visit to the liquor store, and then hurried back to the motel, slowing down only when he saw the manager out and about so he didn't look suspicious.

And now here they were again; Jean seemed to be making some improvement but he wanted to get her out of here quickly, and preferably without making a run for it. Lady luck had been on their side today, that they could be so close to an encounter of the military kind and nothing happened; of course he knew it wasn't so much luck, as just another one of Hannibal's brilliant plans coming together. He was sorry that he had missed all the fun, he would've loved to be there with the others for the fight, and also he regretted not making off with the Huey, ooh it was such a pretty bird, he could still hear her calling to him. But, he had his own job to do and he had done it, and though he didn't expect any praise from the others, he took pride in knowing he had been able to get them both to safety, and acting as a one-man team because they had no choice, he made sure they had everything they need and that they were in a safe spot for the others to come and pick them up. Hannibal had his plan, and he had his own, and both seemed to have gone off without a hitch.

A noise of tires squealing in the distance got Murdock's attention and he hopped off the bed and went over to the window and pulled back the curtains; even in the dark he could see the van as it drove up outside, the headlights were blaring and it barely even stopped before the doors opened up and the three men jumped out.

Murdock laughed and looked back to Jean and said, "Honey, we is about to blow this soda pop stand!" And he went to the door to meet up with the others.


	16. Chapter 16

As soon as Murdock opened the door and stepped out, the first thing he saw was Face running up to him.

"Murdock!" Face practically jumped on him and threw his arms around Murdock's neck, desperate to know that this was real, that he was real, that he was alive.

Murdock didn't think much of Face's reaction to seeing him, though he did comment, "Hey, this is kind of backwards, ain't it?" Usually he was the one bursting with excitement to see the others.

As soon as Face let go of him, the next thing Murdock saw was B.A. coming over to them.

"You crazy fool!" B.A. told him a second before Murdock felt the large ham hock arms wind around his neck and choke him, then realized that he was being lifted off the ground in a crushing bear hug, his windpipe being the crushed part. When B.A. put him down, Murdock coughed and felt his throat and said, "B.A., would you mind being a little _less_ happy to see me?"

"What's the idea of scaring us, fool?" B.A. demanded to know.

"What're you talking about?"

"We thought you were dead!" Face said.

"What?" Murdock couldn't believe what he'd heard.

"We thought you were killed in the fire!" Face told him.

Murdock was dumbstruck for a minute, then it started to make sense, and he couldn't hide the shocked look on his face. "Aw Facey, you ought to know it'll take more than a raging inferno to end the saga of Howling Mad Murdock."

But now the whole situation was starting to make sense, and Murdock explained to them everything that had happened on his own side since they got out of the diner.

"Where's Jean now?" Hannibal asked when he was finished.

"Inside, she's not feeling too well, Colonel," Murdock explained.

"Well what's wrong with her?" Face asked.

Murdock counted them off on his fingers, "Fever, migraines, she's been coughing up stuff from the smoke, her whole body's been rattling around on the bed like the needle on the Richter scale. I don't know _what's_ wrong with her but I think it's a safe bet she would not do well recovering in a military prison."

"Alright, we'll come in and take a look for ourselves," Hannibal told him.

One by one they entered the motel room and saw Jean lying on the bed, her eyes closed and she was half mumbling something to herself. Face went over to the bed first and hovered over her and lightly put his hand on her shoulder, "Jean? Can you hear me?"

Jean moved and slowly opened her eyes and looked up, and a weak smile formed on her face.

"Oh boy am I glad to see you," she quietly said as she half turned on her side and reached her arms out to hug him around his waist, but Face stepped back when he realized her aim was a little low. She lay on her side and fell back asleep.

Hannibal took off his glove and felt Jean's forehead. "Fever's low, that's good," he knelt down beside her and asked her, "How're you feeling, kid?"

Jean murmured and opened her eyes and said weakly, "Not so good, colonel."

Uh-oh. It was one thing that she addressed them formally but to start using titles, that had to mean something was wrong.

"Alright let's get her moved out," Hannibal told the others, "B.A…"

B.A. went over to the bed and scooped Jean up in his arms; she murmured something in response to being moved but it was nothing coherent.

"Come on, mama," he said as he carried her to the door, "We' busting out of this place."

That left Hannibal, Face and Murdock in the room, staring at each other. Finally it was Murdock that broke the silence saying, "I'm sorry, Colonel, I didn't know you guys were worried about us."

"Well…" Hannibal said, "It was a bad situation and I don't know if we had it to do over again that any of us would've done anything differently. The important thing is that you two are alright and now we can get out of here."

"Oh by the way, Colonel," Murdock added, "I saw what you did to those terrorists on the TV this afternoon, fantastic job!"

"Thanks, Murdock," Hannibal replied, leaving out the explanation for _why_ they did it; though he and Face knew that that was why if they'd had it to do over again, they wouldn't try for something different. For two days they had been put through hell, but because of it, a massive terrorist plot to slaughter countless innocent lives had been foiled before any damage could be done.

Hannibal was the next one to step outside, leaving only Murdock and Face in the room. Face looked around the place and while it wasn't anything that could compare to the places he'd usually gotten them over the years, he couldn't resist saying, "You're making me look bad, Murdock, keep this up and you'll get me drummed out of the team."

Murdock put on his jacket and cap and pocketed the medicines on the nightstand and remarked, "Aw come on Face, you know that could never happen, you're still the only guy who could ever get hold of a '53 Cadillac convertible in the jungles of 'Nam." Murdock eyed him suspiciously and started poking Face on the shoulder as he asked him, "Which incidentally how _did_ you manage to get it?"

"I'm not telling," Face laughed.

"I'll keep poking you till you do," Murdock told him, poking him along his collarbone.

"Murdock, you can poke me until I'm black and blue," Face said as he put his hands on his sides, "I'll never tell."

"I'll get it out of you one of these days," Murdock told him, "Never underestimate the persistence of a madman."

Face looked around the room and said, "Alright, Murdock, you got everything?"

"Sure I got everything, all I brought is what I got on," he answered.

"Alright then, let's get out of here," Face suggested.

They ran out of the motel room and joined the others in the van and a minute later they tore out of there and hit the road. Hannibal was in the front with B.A., and Murdock and Face were behind them and Jean had been laid out behind the seats wrapped in a sheet with a pillow under her head.

"We want to get out of here as soon as possible but I don't think we'll chance driving long tonight," Hannibal told B.A., and pointed his thumb to the back, "Until we have a better idea of how sick she is I think we just need to find another place to pullover for the night."

"Did she say anything?" Murdock asked as he reached behind and put his hand on her forehead.

"Something but she didn't open her mouth to let us know what it is," Hannibal told him, "How long's she been like this?"

"Got sick last night," Murdock answered, "After she got that black crud up I thought she'd get better."

"Well," Hannibal said as he reached into his pocket and took out a cigar, "After six months of practically living outside, in burned out homes with no windows, I guess it was only a matter of time before she caught something."

Hannibal turned around in his seat to see Murdock when the pilot leaned forward and snatched Hannibal's cigar away at the last second. It was obvious that the captain wasn't comfortable with contradicting their leader in any way, but he looked very somber as he asked, "Do you mind, Colonel?"

Hannibal's demeanor didn't change, he only turned back in his seat and said cynically, "Cigars don't make people sick."

"Oh yeah?" Face asked, "When was the last time you were on the opposite side of one?"

* * *

><p>A few miles down the road they found another motel to check in for the night; B.A. carried Jean into the room while Face got them checked in and Hannibal played the part of attending physician. Through the exam, Jean never woke up and just barely moaned and moved her head from one side to the other on the pillow. Hannibal took out the bag of medical supplies Face had managed to swipe from a hospital the last time they had to make an emergency run-through because B.A. injured his foot; figuring that sooner or later they would come in handy on the road. The thermometer read 100 degrees even, her blood pressure was fine, her pulse was a little fast, then Hannibal reached into the bag for the stethoscope but didn't find it. He turned around and saw why, Murdock had put it on and was singing 'Fly me to the Moon' into the bell and snapping his fingers on his free hand.<p>

"Hey Murdock, let me see that thing," B.A. said.

"Sure thing, B.A.," Murdock handed the bell over to B.A, who raised it to his lips and said directly into it, "NOW HEAR THIS, FOOL!"

Murdock screamed and yelled and his whole body shook as he took the earpieces out. "What're you trying to do, bust my eardrums?"

"No, but if you don't quit fooling around I'm going beat your skull like a bongo drum," B.A. told him.

"Do you two mind?" Hannibal asked.

B.A. snatched the stethoscope away from Murdock and handed it over to the colonel, "Here you go, Hannibal." Then he turned back to Murdock and growled under his breath, "Fly me to the moon," and shook his head.

"Thank you," Hannibal adjusted the earpieces and warmed the diaphragm in his hands before placing it on Jean's chest and listened. Then he turned her over and put it to her back.

"Well?" Murdock asked.

"Her heart's a little fast, her lungs sound okay, I'm _guessing_ intestines are supposed to sound like this…overall I don't hear anything alarming, we'll let her rest tonight and see if she's any better tomorrow."

"We may be here longer than that," Face said as he came in, "The guy at the desk had the TV turned on for the weather, they're predicting severe weather here for the next few days, possibly tornadoes."

"We're nearing Chicago alright," B.A. said.

"Well," Hannibal told the others, "Maybe Mother Nature's trying to send us a sign, if the weather gets bad enough that they can't let people through, then that means Grant's not going to be getting ahead of us either. For now we'll just have to wait and see."

After Hannibal and B.A. had gone to their own room for the night, Face started to get ready for bed and he noticed Murdock went over to Jean's bed and tried to wake her up.

"Murdock, what're you doing?" he asked.

But Murdock ignored him and kept shaking Jean until she finally started to come around and asked, "What is it?"

"It's time for your medicine," he told her as he reached into his pocket and took out a small bottle of whiskey.

"Oh Murdock, not again," she groaned as she laid back down, "All I've done for two days is drink so much wine, and whiskey…"

"Well at least we know you're not a vampire," Face cynically remarked.

"I don't want anymore," Jean told him, "I…"

Murdock slipped one hand behind her head to steady it and placed the mouth of the bottle at her lips and told her, "Just one more drink," less than subtly he poured it in her mouth and made her swallow it without protest, "And then I promise you can go to sleep."

Down it went and when she was done drinking, she turned on her side and grumbled weakly, "Murdock, you're as bad as a rehab doctor."

He ignored her comment and said only as he tucked her in, "Go to sleep, and I promise you'll feel better when you wake up."

When she finally fell asleep, Murdock went over to the other bed and likewise got ready to go to sleep. But Face interrupted that plan and said to him, "Murdock, she's sick and you gave her whiskey?"

"Well yeah," Murdock said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "It's an old folk remedy for just about everything, everybody used it when I was growing up, especially the farmers. My grandparents gave it to me all the time as a kid and it always knocked the cold out of me."

"Among other things, I'll bet," Face said to himself as he moved over on the bed.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you didn't give her too much?" Face asked Murdock the next day. It was going into the afternoon and Jean never showed any sign of waking up.<p>

"Of course I'm sure," Murdock replied defensively, "I may be crazy, Face, but I am _not_ an idiot."

"I know you're not, but why isn't she waking up?" Face wanted to know, "How sick is she really?"

That, unfortunately, was what they didn't know, and nobody was ready yet to give in and take her to a doctor. The turbulent weather had come in overnight and already outside it was beating down in sheets of rain with high winds and occasional thunder and lightning. If it got much worse, they all knew that nobody would be going anywhere and considered it a lucky break because Hannibal was right, if they couldn't get in or out because of the weather, then nobody else could either. Hannibal had come over earlier in the morning and looked Jean over again and he wasn't any closer to an answer than the others about what was wrong with her; but decided for the time being they would just watch her and keep an eye out for any sign she was getting worse. If that happened, bad weather or not, then they _would_ break down and take her to a doctor or the hospital, much as they hated to do it because it put them all at risk, her just as well as them.

For the rest of the afternoon, Murdock made himself at home on the other side of the bed and he got out Jean's Oz books and read them to her, doing all the voices and sound effects, and adding some where there weren't any. Face tried to tell him it wouldn't do any good because Jean obviously couldn't hear them, but Murdock didn't listen, and Face felt sorry that she _wasn't_ awake for this because it was one hell of a performance. Murdock even managed to find a way to pronounce the word 'Pyrzqxgl' in The Magic of Oz; something which Face guessed people had been attempting to do and failing miserably at for 70 years.

Jean slept through the afternoon and the night and well into the next morning, and only once during all that time did it ever seem that she was trying to wake up. At 3 in the morning they heard her moaning and threw on the lights and went over to her bed to see what was the matter. Her eyes were closed but she was trying to speak, her mouth wasn't open but it sounded like she was trying to say 'Murdock' but got stuck on the M. For about a minute all they heard from her was a low close mouthed 'm-m-m-m-m' sound, until her bottom jaw dropped open the tiniest bit, and hardly moving her mouth they heard her say quietly, "How soon she's ripe, how soon she's rotten, laid in a grave and soon forgotten."

"What was that?" Face wanted to know.

But Murdock knew, "An epitaph from about 200 years ago." He saw the puzzled look on Templeton's face that just screamed 'how do _you_ know that?' and he shrugged and said, "I read it in a book when I was in school."

"Well who do you think she's talking about?" Face asked.

Murdock didn't answer but they had a good idea as they both turned and looked at the unconscious woman. That this statement was a foreboding prediction on her part for her own outcome, consciously or subconsciously, was the only conclusion they could draw that made sense. And it made them both start to wonder just what _would_ happen during the final showdown against the men responsible for this mess.

* * *

><p>By the next day she still hadn't woken up and everybody was starting to get worried about what it meant, though nobody was ready to admit it yet. Since Jean was asleep she had no objection to Hannibal taking her temperature again and surprisingly it went very well without the patient being awake for it.<p>

"99, almost back to normal now," Hannibal said.

"So what's wrong with her?" Face asked.

"I'm not sure," Hannibal replied, "She's not responsive to much of anything, we've tried talking to her, we've tried shaking her, I even tried pinching her feet, nothing."

Murdock was in one of his more optimistic moods and with a snap of his fingers he said, in a grandstanding voice, "I bet I've got it, it is just like Sleeping Beauty and she needs the kiss of a handsome prince to awaken her from her eternal slumber."

B.A. made a face that looked like he just swallowed a whole bottle of lemon juice and said, "Don't do that, fool, you'll make her lapse into a coma for sure!"

"Well I've got another idea," Murdock said as he went to the door, "I'll be back!"

"Don't tell me that!" B.A. called after him, "I've got enough bad news already!"

* * *

><p>Jean didn't know how long she had been asleep but through it all there was an undying odor of sickness and medicine and whiskey, that all added to her misery. Then out of nowhere a new aroma worked its way up her nostrils: fried meat with ketchup and pickles and grease, a cheeseburger, she was sure of it. She could almost see it in front of her and she lifted her arms up and grabbed for it, but it was snatched away at the last second. Then, like it was taunting her, it came back, close to being within her reach, and this time she pulled her body up in the bed and grabbed for it again, and it got away again, but this time the burger was laughing at her. She opened her eyes and saw Murdock standing by the bed with a partially wrapped cheeseburger in hand.<p>

"I thought that would get you up," he said, "You feel like eating?"

Jean rubbed her eyes and noticed the others were all up as well and she asked, "Why didn't somebody wake me up? What time is it?"

"Well it's about two in the afternoon," Hannibal told her, "Two days after you fell asleep."

Jean's eyes popped wide open, "Two days?"

"That's right, you've been pretty sick," he said, "Judging by this I'd say you needed the rest. How're you feeling now?"

"I feel…I feel," she had to think about it, "I feel alright, but I need a shower."

"I'll say," Face commented with a pinch of his nose.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take your temperature first and make sure that your fever's gone down," Hannibal said.

"Well I do mind," she replied.

"I've done it before while you were asleep, there's nothing to it," he told her, "If you want to be stubborn, go ahead, there are _other_ ways to skin a cat."

"I know that," Jean said, and by way of response she lifted up her arm and closed her mouth.

"Funny," Hannibal calmly responded as he took out the thermometer, "The last time I checked your temperature was at 99, the sooner you cooperate the sooner you can get cleaned up."

Jean didn't do anything for a minute, then opened her mouth wide like a baby bird during feeding and let out an exaggerated, "Ahhhhhhhhhhh."

"Don't chew on that," Hannibal told her as he stuck it into her mouth, "It is _not_ a lollypop." After a few seconds he took it out and read the number, "98.8, another step in the right direction, now, was that so hard?"

She'd never admit if it wasn't, instead she got up from the bed and took one step, and immediately started to fall, but Murdock and Face caught her while she regained her balance. Once she did, she made a beeline into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Face picked up the phone and said, "I'm going to call the front desk and have them come in and change the sheets, after two days of that, it smells like something died in here."

Apparently something he said set off a trigger in Murdock, who for a second looked like a mutt hearing a dog whistle, then he went over to the bed and started tearing it apart, throwing the pillows and covers every which way and pulling the mattress off.

"What're you doing, you crazy fool?" B.A. asked.

"Checking for dead bodies," Murdock said as he turned around to face him, "Don't you know that there's an epidemic of corpses turning up in motel beds all across the country? You know how many times a couple stops off for the night and isn't aware they can get a group rate since they're sleeping three in a bed?"

"Hannibal," B.A. turned to the colonel, but never got to finish what he started to say.

Hannibal calmly shook his head and said, "No, B.A., you may _not_ kill him now."

B.A. growled under his breath discontentedly.

* * *

><p>"So now what?" Jean asked half an hour later when she emerged from the bathroom in a different set of clothes, her hair still wet and sticking up in something resembling a mohawk.<p>

"Well it would seem you picked a good time to get sick," Hannibal told her, "Until further noticed we are hereby grounded under the orders of Mother Nature. Half the state is in tornado watches and warnings for the next three days, and nobody's going anywhere."

"No wonder they call Chicago the windy city," Jean said as she sat down on the bed beside Face, "Are you sure about that though?"

"Of course, the police have been going up and down the streets ordering everybody to take cover, they're not going to let anybody cross city limits until the weather clears up," Hannibal explained.

"So what do we do in the meantime?" Jean asked.

"It would really kill you to relax for once, wouldn't it?" Hannibal asked in response.

She laughed grimly and told him in a deadpan voice, "If I relax I'll drop dead."

"Well we got a few extra days so you might give it a try," he advised her as he headed for the door, "I'll see you guys later."

He got three different goodbyes from the occupants of the room, and he didn't have to guess who added, "And don't come back!" as he shut the door behind him.

Outside the rain continued to beat against the motel and every so often Face checked the windows to make sure there wasn't a leak anywhere, and likewise checked the ceiling because the last thing he needed was a rude awakening in the middle of the night. So far everything was bone dry, he took that as a good sign.

"You guys must be getting bored with me," Jean said as she stretched out on the bed, "Seems every time you turn around I'm in some new crisis."

"We've dealt with worse," Face told her, he turned to Jean and saw she had closed her eyes, so he pinched her. She opened her eyes and shot up with a yelp.

"You've been asleep for two days," he said, "You can't possibly still be tired."

"Well what've I got to stay up for?" she replied, "Your stimulating conversation?"

They hadn't paid attention to what Murdock was doing, which was rummaging through his bag until he found what he was looking for.

"I know something we can do," he said as he went over to their bed with the Ouija board under his arm.

Jean sat up in the bed with as much finesse as Dracula rising from his coffin. "What the hell is that thing for?"

"Oh Murdock takes it out from time to time to mess with," Face told her, then he turned and asked her, "Why? You superstitious?"

"Certainly not, but there's a difference in that and messing with things best left alone," Jean said, "Anytime anybody uses one of those things, something bad always happens as a result, directly or otherwise."

"You really believe that?" Face asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"Murdock, I think she's crazier than you," Face said as he turned to the pilot.

Murdock set the board down on the foot of the bed and grabbed the planchette with both hands and said, "I've got an idea."

"Don't tell me," Face tried to guess, "You're trying to try and contact Abraham Lincoln to see what he thought of the show before he got shot?"

"No, but that's a good idea for next time," Murdock said, "Everybody puts their fingers on the planchette…"

"Not me," Jean told him, and pointed upwards, "There might be a loose piano up there waiting to crash on my head."

"Fine, I'll do it myself," Murdock said as he placed his fingertips on the pointer and started chanting gibberish.

"What's he doing?" Jean asked.

Face shrugged and replied, "I think it's Swahili."

"Oh yeah? Well is there a translator on this thing?" Jean asked as she started poking Murdock all over his body, as he continued to spout a bunch of grunts and weird sounds without ever breaking. And then suddenly his eyes rolled back in his head and he sounded like a wild animal growling. His eyes closed and when he opened them again, he said in a voice neither of the other occupants of the room had ever heard from him, "Two shots will ring out, one will stand, one will fall, there be no rest for the wicked, nor burial for the damned." Then his eyes closed and he slumped over the board, all the while his hands never left the planchette.

"Murdock," Face reached over and put his hand on Murdock's shoulder, "Are you alright?"

Murdock slowly opened his eyes and looked like he'd been asleep. "What happened?"

Jean looked to Face and said, "I told you you don't mess with this stuff."

Face didn't believe that there was any connection to Murdock's strange performance and the Ouija board, but the general consensus in the room was the same, whatever had happened, it didn't seem like a game anymore. Jean got up from the bed and went into the bathroom and when the door closed, Face turned to Murdock and asked him, "What was that all about?"

Murdock looked surprised by what had happened and he explained, "I was trying to channel the other Jean Rhodes, to see if he had anything to say about what _has_ happened, or what's _going_ to."

"And that's what he said?"

Murdock nodded.

"Oh boy," Face didn't like where this was most likely going.

* * *

><p>Jean glanced around the room curiously and noticed they were short an occupant. "Where's Peck?" she asked.<p>

"Next door with Hannibal and B.A.," Murdock answered.

It was later in the afternoon and for the moment the weather seemed to be in the midst of calming down; outside there was only the wind to hear, the rain had ended a short while ago.

"Good, then I can talk to you," Jean said.

"What about?" Murdock asked, anticipating that whatever it was, had to do with the cryptic message they received earlier from the other side.

"I'll tell you, Murdock, I am _not_ looking forward to going to sleep tonight," she said, "When I was sick and you said I didn't wake up for two days, I had a lot of nightmares, and you know how it is when you think if you don't wake up and end the dream, you're going to die, but you can't wake up, no matter what you do?"

He knew that feeling only too well. He had a feeling that all of them on the Team knew it; they'd all had more than their share of nightmares over the years, and the worst ones were always the ones they didn't wake up immediately from.

"What were they about?" he inquired.

"Jean Rhodes," she answered, "And the others from that night, they were all screaming at me, blaming me for what had happened to them. And then, I dreamt that I woke up in hell, not for the things I had done, not for the people I killed, but for what I didn't do, for not stopping the executions at the base. Every day for six months I've run that scene back in my mind over and over again trying to think if I missed something, if there was some sign something was wrong and I overlooked it, if there was anything I could've done. I've rattled my brain every day and I can't find anything that I missed. There's nothing, nothing that I can see, nothing that could've been done to stop the murders, can that really be held to me? I can accept damnation for the murders _I've_ committed, but for not preventing the ones before that?"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Murdock tried to assure her, in one of his more serious sides he looked at her and said, "God may be Holy but He is also just, and I can't see Him damning you for what happened at the base anymore than I could see Him damning a little baby."

Jean smiled weakly and replied, "Have to admit, Murdock, there's a hell of a difference between me and a baby."

"As there was between Mary and the woman who would be stoned, did it matter?" he replied.

She smiled at him and asked, "Did you have a religious upbringing?"

He returned the smile and answered, "Only two grandparents who were hellbent on dragging me to church every single Sunday, and they never took no for an answer."

Murdock stopped when he heard something and he signaled for Jean to be quiet and he headed over to the window and pulled it open and stuck his head out. A couple feet below he saw a man standing outside the window to Hannibal's room and he was trying to listen in on what the other men were saying. Murdock stood on the windowsill and positioned himself at an angle and jumped, landed on the man's back and tackled him to the ground. With a few grunts and moans, the two rolled around on the ground wrestling until Murdock grabbed the other man by the shoulders and threw his head against the wall and knocked him out. Jean followed Murdock out the window and helped him drag the intruder over to the door and they stepped into Hannibal's room.

"What's going on?" Hannibal asked.

"We caught this guy trying to spy on you through the window, Colonel," Murdock answered. He let go of the man but Jean maintained her hold, which was on the man's hair.

The unconscious man was about 40 years old, about six feet tall, well built, his skin gave off a slight resemblance to baked chicken and he was dressed in green army fatigues and a black T-shirt and steel toed boots. Jean had a death grip on his brown hair and had it pulled so tightly that it made his head look like a peeled onion.

"He doesn't look like anybody we know," Face commented.

"We'll see about that," Hannibal went over to the man and slapped him in the face and that brought him around.

Jean let go of him and went over to the other side of the room and dug through the bags by the bed until she found what she was looking for and returned with the large wood file from B.A.'s bag, not doing anything with it yet but keeping it lowered at her side to use in a moment's notice if she saw fit. The man appeared to be dazed so Hannibal tapped him on the cheek to get his attention.

"There's a reason people invented doorbells," he said, "Now who are you and what is it that you want?"

But the man wouldn't answer Hannibal. Jean raised the metal file and grated it over the side of the man's face, drawing a pained yelp from him and she told him, "You answer his questions or I'm grating your face like a block of cheese."

The man opened his eyes and looked at Hannibal and said weakly, "I know who you are, Smith."

"Well I'm relieved to know that," Hannibal cynically told him, "I'd hate to think you do this kind of thing at random. Now for the second round, who are you working for?"

He didn't answer that either, saying only, "He's coming for you, Smith, you're going to rot in a military prison where you belong."

Jean elbowed Face and murmured to him, "So _that's_ how Lynch has been able to keep up, he's had somebody tracking you guys."

"Well, I guess he's finally starting to get a brain," Face said, "Though obviously not too much of one or he would've done it himself. So what are we going to do with him, Hannibal?"

"Oh I've got a plan," Hannibal assured him, "Give me a hand with him."

Everybody grabbed a side and hauled the man into the bathroom, he yelled and kicked and struggled all the way, but not for long because he promptly got a shot in the arm that sent him straight to dreamland. While he was out, Face set about tying him up, while Jean went back to their room and came back with a set of handcuffs for extra security.

"So what's the plan, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"Well I figure since he was in the process of spying on us that he hasn't alerted Lynch yet as to where we are, meaning they don't know where to come and start looking for us yet," Hannibal explained, "So we have a little time, meaning that we can put him in the van, drive out west for a couple of hours and dump him off somewhere, preferably in front of a police station with a sign around his neck."

"Oh another one of those?" Murdock asked, "Alright, I'll go make the sign, what is he this time, a drug runner or an animal smuggler?"

"Surprise me," Hannibal said.

A loud knock at the front door got everybody's attention; Face went to see what it was, he closed the bathroom door behind him and caught a glimpse out the window and saw a black and white car pulled up outside. He went back to the bathroom door, opened it a crack and called in, "It's the police, I'll try and get rid of them." He closed the door again and went over to the front door, calling out, "I'm coming!" and sucked in a breath before he opened the door to the tall, intimidating looking officer standing outside.

"Yes?" he said.

"Excuse me sir, but there have been some complaints about the noise coming from this room, the people in the next room said something about a fight and reported hearing a woman screaming."

"I see, come in," Face held the door open for the officer, and he looked to make sure there wasn't a second one behind him.

"You said something about a fight, officer?" Face asked.

"Yes, some of the other guests staying at the motel called in to report that they heard a woman screaming and several people arguing loud enough to be heard through the walls, and became concerned."

"Oh, I see," Face said, trying to think of a logical way to explain this and make the cop go away, and it hit him. They heard a woman screaming, and there _was_ a woman in the bathroom at this very minute, they could send Jean out and that would explain that, he just needed to figure out how it all worked together. "Well, if they heard a woman's voice, that _had_ to be my wife, but there hasn't been anything going on in here, officer, I can assure you of that."

"Where _is_ your wife, sir?" the officer wanted to know.

"She's taking a bath," Face said, loud enough that the others could hear him but not to the point he would appear suspicious.

"Have her come out here," the cop said, "I need to speak with her."

"Yes, officer," Face went over to the bathroom door, pounded on it once and said, "Cover up, dear, there's a policeman here who wants to speak with you."

"A policeman?" they heard a woman's voice behind the door.

"Yes, dear!" Face replied, "Now put something on and come out here." He turned back to the officer and laughed nervously, "Her and her full body beauty rituals, you know for all the time she spends undressed you'd think I'd get to enjoy some of it."

The bathroom door opened and Face caught a glimpse through the corner of his eye of a bathrobe and turned to speak to Jean, and he choked on the first syllable and about had a heart attack.

Murdock had come out of the bathroom in a towel, bathrobe, and shower cap, he had the cap pulled down low so it practically covered his eyes, and he spoke in a high pitched, slightly feminine voice as he said, "Yes dear, what was that you said?"

"Uh," Face felt his mouth open and close a few times before he remembered how to speak and he told Murdock, "This officer says that the other guests called to complain about the noise, they think we were having a fight earlier."

"Well why shouldn't we fight?" Murdock asked as he folded his arms against his chest, "A girl only gets one wedding anniversary a year and _you_ had to go and forget it!" And on that note, Murdock unfolded one arm, reached out and slapped Face in the stomach with the back of his hand.

Face had a good idea unless this situation changed very quickly they could both be hauled out to the police car, and down to the station. "Now dear," he said, "You know that we couldn't go on our second honeymoon with my sister in the hospital, I promised you I would make it up to you."

"Yes and you certainly have a funny way of doing that," Murdock said, "Load me up in a stuffy car and we drive for five days on bumpy roads so we can spend a week at a rained out resort in the middle of nowhere. I don't know _why_ I married you!" He turned from Face to the cop and said, "Oh, but since you're out here, maybe you can do something about the Peeping Toms we've been getting around here."

"Excuse me, ma'am?" the officer asked.

Murdock nodded and pointed to the window, "Not half an hour ago, I caught a man peeking at me through that window, that's the curse of being a beautiful woman, everywhere you go strange men practically climb in through the window to take a look at you in your unmentionables."

"_That_ must've been what people were hearing," Face said, "She caught somebody outside the window and started screaming, of course by the time I got there he was already gone. She can't ever learn to tell me first and then scream afterwards, scream first and they never wait around to get caught."

The cop looked surprised and said, "This happens often, ma'am?"

"Oh yes," Murdock said.

Face stepped in and added, "Oh sure, they come back repeatedly, they can't believe what they saw the first time."

"Oooohhhh you!" Murdock shook his fist at Face and said, "I should've listened to my mother and never married you."

"I'm _sorry_, dear," Face told him.

Murdock kept his back turned to Face for a few seconds before turning around and telling him, "All's forgiven, dear." And he grabbed Face and pulled him to him and kissed him in an exaggerated manner; luckily Face had his back turned to the cop or else he would've seen the eyes rolling around in his head since that was the only place he could express any sickness he was feeling at the moment. When Murdock finally let go of him, Face pulled away and gasped and said, "Well officer, I'm sorry for any trouble we've caused, but I hope you do manage to find who's been spying on my wife so we can enjoy _part_ of our vacation."

After the officer assured them that the police department would look into the matter and left, Face closed the door behind him, locked it, turned around and spit, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth like a dog.

"Murdock, was that really necessary?" he asked.

"Well he bought it, didn't he?" Murdock asked as he shed the shower cap and bathrobe and bath towel and revealed he had rolled his pants up to his knees and pulled his arms out of his T-shirt and let it hang around his chest, "Got rid of him in a hurry."

"Yeah well next time I want a new wife," Face told him as they went back to the bathroom.

The door opened and Hannibal stepped out with a freshly lit cigar in hand and asked, "How about me, Face?"

Face groaned and turned back around and headed for the front door as Hannibal just laughed at his expense.


	17. Chapter 17

The name of the man, according to the ID card in his pocket, was Richard Burgess, and to make matters worse, the ID was a military one and further search of the unconscious man's pockets turned up proof that he had been a member of the army for 13 years.

"Now he's onto _us_," Hannibal said, "But do you recognize him, Jean?"

She shook her head, "I've never seen him before in my life."

"Well that's one thing in our favor," he said as he pocketed all of Burgess' papers. Getting rid of him would be hard enough and they knew it wouldn't be a permanent matter, but removing all forms of ID was one good start, it would take a while to confirm he was who he said he was by the time he woke up and remembered what happened.

"It's too bad we couldn't pump him full of vodka or something before dumping him," Jean commented, "He would be too drunk to tell anybody anything and by the time he sobered up, nobody would believe him, of course that's assuming he didn't succumb to alcohol poisoning first and do us all a favor and slump down dead."

Hannibal looked at her through the corner of his eyes and said, "Let me ask you a question, kid, where do you think up things like that?"

Her only response to him was, "You'd be surprised what I think about, Smith."

"You know the part I don't get," Face said, "How could this guy be following us and always one step ahead of Lynch? How was he able to tell where we were going?" He looked over to B.A. and added, "You checked the van to make sure we weren't being tracked, right?"

"That's right and there wasn't any," B.A. told him.

"Ingenious, through and through," Jean noted, and looking down at the unconscious man she said, "Maybe he flies at night in a straight line."

"What?" Face asked.

"Never mind," she replied, "So where're you going to dump him?"

"Well I figure since we left Lynch behind back east," Hannibal explained, "He would probably anticipate meeting up with our friend Burgess again somewhere between there and here, so we're going to drop him off somewhere a little further west where Lynch won't think to look for him, B.A., how much ground can you cover in about two hours?"

"Going west?" B.A. asked, "I can drop him off somewhere between the state lines of Missouri and Kansas."

"Sounds far enough west to me," Face said.

"Are we coming too?" Murdock asked.

"I don't see any need for that," Hannibal said, "B.A. and I can take care of it, after having the cops around it might look suspicious if anybody sees six people leaving this room together."

"Right but you guys weren't here when the cops came in either," Jean reminded them.

"Who's going to tell them?" Hannibal asked, "It's dark, the weather's still nasty, I doubt anybody's going to actually come out and see us off, if they only see two or three people from the window, that's not so unusual."

They hauled Burgess out with them and Hannibal closed the door behind them. A few minutes after the others heard the van leave, they went back to their own room, where they intended to stay until further notice.

"For their sake the weather better not get any worse or they're going to have the cops stopping them," Jean commented.

"That's what I like about you, always such an optimist," Face told her.

"So what do we do while we wait for them to get back?" Jean asked.

"Other than keep a lookout for the military bulldogs you mean?" he replied.

Murdock realized that Jean most likely had not been conscious when the revelation came that the others had thought she and he were killed in the fire, so he relayed that whole story for her benefit, after which she just said, "It sounds interesting, I wish I'd been awake for more of it, but about all I remember from that time is being hauled out of the room by King Kong," she pounded her chest with both fists for emphasis, "Good Lord that man is big, ain't he?"

"He's also heavy," Face told her, "You wouldn't believe how many times we have to carry him onto a plane once we get him knocked out."

Jean poked him and pointed behind him and he turned and saw Murdock sitting on the edge of the bed and he had a sad puppy dog look on his face and was starting to whimper like one.

"What is it now, Murdock?" he asked.

"That chopper, Face," he said with a distant look in his eyes, "I can still hear her calling me."

"Oh Murdock please, not again!" Face fell back against the bed.

"Wouldn't the cops have confiscated that too since it was evidence?" Jean asked.

"Maybe," Murdock considered it.

"Besides, how far back was that place?" Jean asked, "You'd never be able to get back there and find it."

"Don't tell him that," Face muttered to her, "It encourages him."

And indeed Murdock seemed to take that as a challenge, "They said I'd never make it in the Thunderbirds and I did, they said I'd never come back from 'Nam alive and I did. They said I'd never be able to hang myself by my heels from the water pipes on the ceiling in my room, and recite The Razor's Edge while playing a bass drum with my head, but I did it, now what does that tell you?"

"That you clearly have too much free time on your hands in that booby hatch," Jean answered without missing a beat.

"And apparently," Face added, more to himself than the others, "I've been in both your companies far too long, you're both starting to make sense, and I'm starting to get scared."

* * *

><p>"Well that should be the end of that problem for a little while," Hannibal said when they pulled back in at the motel that night, "The way I figure it, Burgess should be in the drunk tank in that town for about a week, by which time we should be in Chicago and through with this whole ordeal."<p>

"Either way, we shouldn't have to worry about Lynch crashing anymore of our plans for a while," B.A. agreed tiredly. It wasn't late yet but he was looking forward to just dropping on the bed and going to sleep.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Hannibal told him, "I'm going to check on Face and Murdock and make sure nothing else happened while we were gone."

Hannibal went over to the door of the room next to his and found it was unlocked and helped himself in. The lights were still on but he noticed before he ever opened the door that it was quiet inside. The only sound he heard was the door creaking as he pushed it and he found out why; Face was sprawled out in one bed asleep on top of the covers, and Murdock was in the other bed, under the covers, with his feet on the pillow and his head at the footboard, also asleep. Jean was the only one still up and she was facedown on the opposite side of Face's bed; like Murdock she was also down at the foot of the bed and had been hovered over a book, when she heard the door open her head came up and upon seeing Hannibal she raised a finger to her lips and pointed at the two sleeping men on her right. Hannibal smiled at the sight before him, nodded and quietly slipped back out and pulled the door shut behind him and went back to his own room.

"So what the crazy fool do this time while we weren't here?" B.A. wanted to know.

"B.A., you'll be very pleased to know that we've apparently missed a very _boring_ evening, noting seems to have gone on while we were absent," Hannibal told him with a smug grin on his face.

But B.A. wasn't buying it, "If the fool ain't done something crazy before now, he just ain't got it planned yet, he's figuring out what the _next_ crazy thing he's gonna do is."

"At least there's a break between them," Hannibal reminded him.

And he intended to enjoy it. B.A. flopped down on his bed and looked forward to a few hours of sleep without Murdock bursting into the room singing or hunting for dust bunnies under everybody's beds or whatever other crazy thing came to his mind. And if he _did_, B.A. was going to put _him_ to sleep for a week.

* * *

><p>Face rolled over onto his side and felt something press against him, he opened his eyes and saw he had rolled against Jean.<p>

"Oh, excuse me," he said as he started to get up.

"That's alright," she replied.

Face sat up in the bed and yawned; he didn't know how long he'd been asleep but he could tell it had been a while. He turned his head and saw a lump under the covers in the other bed and realized the lump's head was down at the bottom and the feet were sticking up at the top of the covers. Just another routine night for the A-Team, he thought. He turned the other way to see Jean and a thought occurred to him. Maybe it would've been better if he'd asked Murdock this question, but he had an idea that maybe he'd get a straighter answer from Jean, instead of Murdock who usually found a way to not only tap dance but also cha-cha, rumba, and shimmy around any answers he didn't feel like giving when he thought the questions got too personal.

He reached over and tapped Jean on the shoulder and said to her, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure," she answered without a beat.

Actually asking the question was harder than he thought. In the last few days he had a strange feeling about this girl and Murdock; he didn't really _think_ that there was anything going on between them, but all the same he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that there was _something_ going on here that he wasn't aware of. He knew there was a perfectly logical reason for why they had done it, but when Murdock told them about checking into the motel as a husband and wife, something about it didn't set well with him. He didn't know why, he knew Murdock well enough to usually know what was going on inside his head, even if he didn't understand it. Maybe that was the problem; they all could tolerate Murdock's crazy antics up to a point, but Jean seemed to be the only one who could make any sense of the things he did and said.

That was what had really bothered him. Maybe the fact that she had been able to actually _see_ Billy should've been a tipoff to something; it had certainly been weird when they found it out but they hadn't thought much of it. Well, why _did_ she see Billy? If nobody else could and Murdock had always been the only one to see the dog, why could this woman? How did that work? And it wasn't just Billy, these two talked like they were of the same mindset, were it not for the age difference, he would almost swear they were twins separated at birth. He just couldn't figure it out, it didn't make any sense to him and that's why he had to know once and for all. Well, here went the $64,000 question.

Slowly, trying very hard not to crack because he was well aware just how ridiculous the whole thing was, he looked at her and asked her, "Is there something going on between you and Murdock?"

Jean only paused for a second before responding, "What do you mean something between him and me, something like what?" And then, slowly, it hit her, and her mouth fell open, and she fell against the bed laughing, and it grew until she was howling like a banshee. She bounced on the bed and hit her hands and her feet against the mattress, repeating over and over again between the laughter, "You thought…you thought Murdock and I…" that was always when she laughed too hard to make any other sounds, coherent or not. She flopped over onto her stomach to look over to the other bed and screamed at the lump, "Murdock!"

"Mm?"

"Hey Murdock!" she called again.

"What is it?" Murdock asked as he crawled out from under the covers at the foot of the bed and pulled himself up on the footboard.

"Murdock, get over here, you won't believe this!" Jean fell down laughing again, "You've got to hear this!"

Murdock was clearly not fully awake as he nonchalantly walked over to the other bed with his eyes closed and looked like he couldn't be rushed for anything. "Alright, what is it?" he asked as he sat down beside them.

Jean tried to tell Murdock but because she couldn't stop laughing it took her three times to fully say it, and took two more times for Murdock to fully hear it because that was when he opened his eyes and looked at Face. For a minute he didn't do anything but just sat there like a marble statue, and finally, he too fell down laughing.

"Well I guess that answers my question," Face said, trying hard to maintain a straight face and also to sound slightly annoyed by this response.

Jean and Murdock were beside each other paralyzed on the bed from laughing, it was several minutes before either of them could move and when they did they sat up again and tried to calm down, all the while small titters escaped them at every side.

"Well I just thought I'd ask!" Face told them, now very much annoyed by the sudden reception.

"Why?" Murdock managed to choke down a laugh and asked him, "You want her?"

"Hell no!" Face jumped to his feet, "I was just asking."

Murdock was howling with laughter again as he said, "We've discovered the eighth wonder of the world, a woman that Faceman is not attracted to!" He grabbed Jean by the arm and said, "Ohhh if only we could figure out how to bottle you and we could spray it so then we wouldn't have to keep taking jobs for pretty ladies who can't afford to pay us."

"Murdock," Jean was poking him to get his attention, "Murdock, can you imagine that? Can you imagine what that would be like?" She pointed at them and said, "Mr. and Mrs. Howling Mad Murdock." And both exploded into another fit of laughter as the thought took form.

"At least we know that you can wear white," Jean said.

Murdock let out one particularly loud howl and agreed, "Oh yes and I would make such a lovely bride, and stay at the aisle this time!"

By now Face had given up and was also laughing at the absurdity of it all; and it spread through them like pure intoxication.

"You must be fitted!" Jean said as she went over to the other bed and started pulling the covers off, and she told Face, "We must get the bride ready for her wedding dress!"

Face was officially as crazy as the others at this time, because he went over to her and said, "I'll help!"

* * *

><p>That did it, that did it! B.A. said it before if Murdock didn't shut up for the night he was going to put the crazy fool to sleep for a week. And now, he didn't know <em>what<em> was going on next door but he could hear that fool's laughing clear through the wall; which was no surprise because he was being loud enough to wake the dead, and B.A. was about to make him a certified member. He went to the room next door and found the door unlocked, so that was one good thing; the motel wouldn't have to add the charge of a replacement door to their bill when they left. He opened the door and stepped in, and froze at the crazy sight before him.

The room was a mess from everything being thrown around and discarded, and in the center of the room, the beds had been stripped and Murdock was standing on a suitcase and a telephone book as Jean and Face stood on opposite sides of him, wrapping him in a white bed sheet over his jacket and khakis. All three of them were laughing and about to fall down, if they were drunk was anybody's guess but craziness definitely seemed to be contagious tonight. Murdock looked down at the sheet and how it fit around him and said, "But the real question is how do you hold a dress like this _up_?"

"Gaffer tape," Jean told him, and poked him in the chest as she added, "Right here."

"Ou-ch," Murdock said slowly and exaggeratedly, then he lifted up one foot and clicked his tongue, "It's no good dah'ling, I cannot get married in this, I do not have the right _shoes_ to go with this dress, see?"

"Then take them off," Face said, "Nobody likes a tall bride anyway."

"Oh that's a good idea," Murdock replied.

Of course he couldn't take them off without untying them so he stayed in his sneakers, though now he seemed to have trouble maintaining his balance so Face grabbed him to help him stand up.

"I'm so nervous," Murdock said, "I've never been married before. I hope I don't get cold feet again, I simply _won't_ be able to live with myself if I leave another man at the altar."

"Don't worry, Murdock," Face told him as he patted a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, any guy would be lucky to have you," Jean added.

"Oh I just hope I'm doing the right thing," Murdock said, "I'm just thankful that there aren't any children yet. That always makes marriage so much more difficult."

B.A. was aware that sometime during this his bottom jaw had dropped slightly, and he knew that for all the crazy stuff Murdock had come up with over the years to try and drive them nuts as well, this one was too weird even for him. And, he also came to the conclusion that he didn't want any part of this one, because he was starting to wonder if the craziness really _was_ contagious, in which case he wasn't going to let it spread to him too and make him like the fool. He backed out of the room, closed the door and headed back to bed where he was determined to forget that tonight ever happened, it was just too crazy to believe, _even_ by Murdock's standards.

"Okay," Face said as Murdock stepped down from the suitcase, "Now we've got to get the bride to the chapel."

They each grabbed Murdock by the arm and walked him around the room humming the wedding march until they came to the same spot in front of the bed.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Murdock told him, "I can't get married now!"

"Why not?" they asked.

"There's no groom," he answered.

"Oh!" both turned away, clearly annoyed by this sudden inconvenience.

"Then we've got to find one," Face said.

"That's right," Jean looked at him, "And I know just the guy for the job."

Face caught on and couldn't help whining, "Oh why do I always let myself get talked into these things?"

* * *

><p>When Face woke up the next morning, Murdock was gone. It was early enough that it was still dark out, and he couldn't figure where the captain had disappeared to during the night. Jean was also awake and apparently she too had been up for a while, and she told Face, "Murdock went out about 5 o' clock."<p>

"Where?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered, "But he said to make sure we didn't leave until he got back."

As if they would.

"And he didn't say anything about where he was going?"

Jean shook her head. "He just said when the others woke up to tell them to stay here until he got back later, but he didn't say when that would be."

"_Are_ the others up yet?"

"I don't think so," she said.

"I'll go tell them," Face got dressed and put on his jacket and headed out the door. On the way out he was sure he could hear Jean snickering at him but he didn't stop to ask what was so funny.

Just as he reached to knock on the door, it swung open and Hannibal, also just getting up, stood in the doorway and said, "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Did you know that Murdock's gone?" Face asked.

"Good riddance," B.A. grumbled as he got out of bed, "Too bad that fool always finds his way back, he's like a boomerang."

"Where'd he go?" Hannibal asked.

"I don't know, he ducked out before I woke up," Face explained, "He only told Jean and apparently he said for all of us wait here until he gets back."

"Oh brother," B.A. rolled his eyes, "Knowing that fool he probably found a trowel and started digging his way to China."

"Well, we'll wait and see what happens when he gets back," Hannibal said, "In the meantime, Face, why don't you go down to the diner and bring back some breakfast since we're all up?"

Sometimes the line between conman and errand boy was a slim one. Face turned around and walked away, and he stopped in his tracks and started to feel his cheeks turning red when he heard Hannibal and B.A. laughing under their breath as well. He turned around and was going to demand to know what was so funny, but as he turned around he caught a glimpse of something white on the back of his jacket. He turned around a couple of times trying to catch a better look at it, but finally just took his jacket off and turned it around, and he was _not_ laughing at the sign taped onto the back of his blazer that read: Just Married.

* * *

><p>"So what <em>did<em> happen last night?" Face asked Jean as he lay on the bed with his feet up on the footboard as he gazed out the window and waited for Murdock to return.

"Well it's a little blurry but as far as I can remember," she told him, "You and Murdock got married."

"To who?" he asked.

"Whom."

"Alright, to whom?" Face asked.

"Each other."

"Oh brother," Face covered his face with his hand, "Why did I do that?"

"Because somebody had to fill in for the groom and we took a vote you were more qualified for it than I was," Jean explained.

"So what did you do?"

"I married the two of you," she said, "If I were you, when Murdock gets back I would push for annulment, it would be so much easier than a divorce."

"Ha-ha-ha," Face dryly remarked, "Do you think he remembers?"

"Who do you think put the sign on your back?" she replied.

"Oh ga…" Face groaned, "If he tries tying cans to the back of the van, he won't have to worry about B.A., _I'm _going to kill him."

Jean turned back around to watch the TV and just laughed.

"Shhhh," Face said as he sat up, "You hear that?"

"What is it?" Jean asked as she turned back around and shut off the TV.

She saw Face was looking up to the ceiling and she looked as well, and after a few seconds she could hear it, a low, repetitive thwump-thwump-thwump-thwump in the distance.

"It couldn't be," Face said, "It just couldn't be."

But he knew it was. He sprang off the bed and ran out the door with Jean at his tail and they ran into Hannibal and B.A. who had also come out to see what the noise was. They all looked up in the air and didn't see anything, then Hannibal pointed further out to an area that was covered with trees and told them, "Look!"

Just rising above the treetops they saw the big black Huey heading their way.

"Holy cats, he did it!" Jean said.

They saw the chopper go down behind another cover of trees just across from the motel and they took off running to see what was going on. The rotor had slowed and finally came to a stop as the door opened and Murdock climbed out, looking very pleased with himself and he spread his arms out to emphasize the size of this accomplishment and said when they came up to him, "Well Colonel, what do you think?"

"Murdock you _are_ crazy!" Jean said as she threw her arms around him.

"Well I already knew that!" he told her.

"How did you get it?" Face asked.

Murdock evaded the answer to that question, saying only, "They told me I'd never learn to juggle with my feet, and I did, they told me I'd never go around the Revolution's loop without a roller coaster and I did, they told me I'd never be able to go back and get the chopper, and _I did_!" And he jumped up and down in ecstasy at what he had done.

"Brilliant work, Captain," Hannibal said as he craned his neck back to see the copter better, "But what're you going to do with it?"

"Like you said, Colonel, half of us stays on the road in the van, and the other half takes to the skies, that way even if Lynch could catch up with us again, he couldn't catch all of us."

"Well," Hannibal looked up, "The weather looks better today, and since Lynch has no idea of what's going on or where we are, this _would_ be the perfect time to hit the road again…" he dug the map out of his pocket and tapped their next stopping point. "That's the first checkpoint Grant's supposed to come to, and he should be catching up to us pretty soon. Now I think it's a safe bet there'll be a lot less traffic in the sky _over_ the checkpoint, and since they don't have control of who comes that way, there'll be a lot less they can do about anybody passing overhead. So I think it would be a good idea if you could fly over the checkpoint and find out what it is exactly, what we'd be getting into. That just leaves the question of who goes," he gestured to the chopper, "And who stays?"

B.A. folded his arms and got in Hannibal's face and told him, "You already know what my answer is, Hannibal, I ain't getting in no planes, and I ain't getting in no helicopter, _especially_ not one being flown by that crazy fool."

"I'll go," Jean spoke up, "I'm not afraid to fly."

"Hmm," B.A. grunted a dry laugh and told her, "You will be."

"How bout you, Face, you wanna come?" Murdock asked hopefully.

"Ah," Face tried to think how to turn him down without hurting his feelings, "I'll join you on the next trip. It's only a couple hundred miles away, right?"

Murdock's mouth drooped in a sad puppy pout and he looked down at his sneakers.

"Well, if we're checking out we better get our luggage before the maid steals it, right?" Jean asked.

"Right, let's clear out," Hannibal told them.

"Do we put our stuff in the van or the chopper?" Jean asked.

"We'll hold onto it for the time being," Hannibal answered, "If there's anything you want to grab out before we take off, I'd recommend doing it now."

"Murdock," Face said as they headed back for the motel, "How did you do it?"

"How did _you_ get the '53 Caddy?" Murdock replied.

"Professional secret."

"Mine too," Murdock told him.

* * *

><p>"If the chopper can fly faster than they can drive, why are we taking off before them?" Jean asked Murdock as they walked out to the helicopter.<p>

"Oh it's strictly routine," Murdock said, "Incase something would happen and we'd crash right after takeoff, then they'd know it right away instead of waiting around for us to land."

Jean looked back to the three men standing by the van seeing them off. Murdock turned and waved back at them and called, "So long, fellas!"

Likewise Jean waved to them and bellowed, "Goodbye, suckers!" And with that, she climbed into the right side of the cockpit and Murdock on the left and they pulled the doors shut.

Once seated, Murdock fell over the control panel and nuzzled it like it was a cat, stroking the controls and crooning, "Hello, baby, did you miss me?"

Jean looked around at the cockpit and commented, "This isn't a particularly new model, is it?"

"No," Murdock shook his head as he picked it up off the gauges, "This is very similar to the ones I flew back in 'Nam." He looked at Jean and asked her, "Have you flown before?"

She paused for a second before answering, "Never."

That got Murdock's brain storming; just prior to takeoff was never a good time for true confessions although it was dramatically better than just _after_ takeoff.

"Are you scared?" he asked her.

She looked at him and looked out the windshield and then out the window on her side and looked at the ground around them and said, "Not yet."

Murdock started to chuckle and said to himself, "This should be a very interesting experience."

Jean covered her ears as the engine whirred to life and looked up when she heard the blades start spinning. Out on the ground, the tension wasn't any lighter; Hannibal, B.A. and Face stood by the van watching as the copter started up and slowly took to the air, and once there it started to turn around, and took off heading north.

"Are you sure about this, Hannibal?" Face asked.

"What've we got to lose?" he replied, "Now let's get going, they're already going to beat us to the checkpoint, but let's not make it easy for them."


	18. Chapter 18

Murdock was able to find a secluded place to land that was about two miles away from the main road and he took the Huey down. Jean gazed out of the window and saw everything suddenly get much larger again as they came closer to the ground. When the chopper finally landed, the rotary blades slowed down and finally died and all movement came to an end.

"You know," Murdock said as he took off his headset, "For a first flight you did great, _lot_ better than B.A. ever did."

Jean flashed a small smile and told him, "I don't come from a family of screamers."

Murdock laughed as he opened the door and climbed out of the cockpit, then went over to help her out.

"You were fantastic," he told her, "I ought to take you flying with me more often, it's not every passenger I get who knows the words to 'Snoopy vs. the Red Baron'."

"Hey Murdock," Jean said, "Since the others won't be getting here for a while, there's something I wanted to ask you."

"What's that?"

"Smith was your colonel in the war, right?"

"Yep."

"Is that why he's the leader?" Jean asked.

"Well he was the leader back in 'Nam so it only made sense he would be now also," he told her.

"And you're the captain, right?"

"That's true also."

"So that means if anything ever happens to Smith, you take over as the leader of the A-Team, is that it?" Jean asked.

Murdock looked like his brain had just short circuited, but he quickly recovered and said, "Oh nothing's ever going to happen to Hannibal, he's too smart to let something happen to him."

"You mean there's never been a time on a mission when he was caught or otherwise taken out of commission?"

"Well sure there have been a few times when he was captured but we always got in there and got him out quickly," Murdock explained.

"Acting under your orders, right?"

"Oh sometimes, usually though it's Face that takes over if Hannibal's not around."

"Why Peck?" Jean asked, "He's only a Lieutenant, that's below Captain, right?"

"Well it's not about that," he told her, "It just a matter of who has a plan at the time."

"So rank doesn't have anything to do with it?" she asked.

Murdock shook his head, "Not a thing, just titles and formalities, but we're not so formal with the formalities."

"Go figure," she said.

As they neared the main road, Murdock could see a set of headlights coming their way and recognized the front of the van, "Hey here they come!"

And apparently they saw him as well, the van turned off the road and came to a stop, and everybody got out.

"Well Murdock, what's the verdict?" Hannibal asked.

"It's weird, Colonel, that's about all I can say," he answered, "And you know what it takes for something to be weird to me."

"We went over both checkpoints," Jean told him, "First one's got a couple of guys with guns and a couple of roadblocks in the middle of a dirt road that takes a detour away from civilization, okay, nothing _too_ suspicious there, looks like border security."

"Yeah and the next one looks like the heart of Saigon," Murdock added, "There's about 50 men there in camouflage with machine guns and assault rifles and jeeps out in the middle of nowhere, they seem to all be waiting around for something."

"Well that couldn't have been good when they saw the chopper," Face commented.

"I told you before it ain't got any numbers on it because it was painted black," Jean said, "And apparently that's something in our favor because it looks like they got a couple of birds down there just like it. Either way with no numbers they can't figure out who it is or where it came from."

"Well," Face turned to Hannibal, "Got any ideas on this one, Colonel?"

"Saunders built the ring up again pretty quickly," Hannibal thought aloud, "But this wouldn't be any halfway point between the base and the cartels, would it?" he asked Jean.

"I doubt it," she said, "They don't look like _no_ new recruits to me, they look like they've been in this game for quite a while, whatever it is."

Hannibal took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it, "Maybe you were wrong."

"Or maybe there's something else going on that we don't know anything about yet," she replied.

"What about Grant?" Murdock asked.

"Well that's the beauty of it, Murdock," Face told him, "He's still an annoying little blip on our radar screen and he's following right behind us on schedule. He ought to be reaching the first checkpoint within the hour."

"Meaning what?" Jean asked.

"Well obviously it wouldn't be a smart move to tailgate him through the checkpoint," Hannibal explained, "We'll let him pass through first and then we'll follow behind him."

"And the first one should be easy since it's only two guys," Jean noted, "But what about the second one?"

"That's where the chopper comes in handy," Hannibal explained, "Murdock, how long did it take to fly to the second one?"

"About an hour, Colonel," Murdock answered.

"Perfect," he said, "Let's get ready."

* * *

><p>The van stayed far enough off of the road that when Grant's car passed by an hour later, he wasn't aware of any other vehicles around him; and after he drove by, the van got back on the road and followed behind him, but far enough back that he didn't know he was being tailed. B.A. and Hannibal were up front and Face, Murdock and Jean were in the back and watching the road ahead of them incase there were any ground obstacles the aerial view hadn't revealed.<p>

"Something about this doesn't make sense, Hannibal," Face said.

"Well of course not, Face, if it did then we'd have the whole thing figured out already," he replied, "And if that were the case, we'd already be at the finish line collecting the trophy."

"Well what if it's a trap?" Jean asked.

"I'm hoping it is," was Hannibal's response.

Face didn't say anything from where he sat behind Hannibal but it was obvious by the look on his face that he was not as enthusiastic about it as their leader was.

"There is it," Murdock lunged forward to the front seat and pointed up ahead, "There's the roadblock."

"Alright, B.A., stop here for a minute, let's see what happens," Hannibal told him.

Jean poked Face and when he turned his head she leaned into him and whispered, "The big mudsucker ain't much of a talker, is he?" She had noticed that B.A. hadn't said anything since they met up an hour ago.

"Oh…he's consistent," Face told her, "About two words per hour. That's why he goes a long time without saying anything, he's saving them up to form a whole sentence."

They saw Grant's car come to a stop and a man with a gun came over to the side and leaned on the side of the car and stuck his head in the driver side window. Words were exchanged for a few minutes and then Grant was allowed to drive on. A couple of minutes later, the van also pulled up and the same man came around to the driver's side, looked in the window and said, "State your business here."

B.A. reached through the window, grabbed the man by his collar and slammed his head against the door, and everybody piled out of the van with a rifle in hand, and had both men drop their guns and put their hands up. Hannibal kept his gun on the men and had Face and Murdock search them for any other weapons; they didn't find any but did confiscate two walkie talkies from them.

"Now I'm very curious since there's nobody around for 10 miles and no sign of actual civilization for another 20, just _who_ you're keeping in contact with, using these things," Hannibal told the men, "Who are you working for?"

"Answer him, suckers!" B.A. warned them.

"I'm going to guess that the name Jack Saunders rings a bell," Hannibal said, and he saw by the expressions on the men's faces that it did, "Where is he?"

"In Chicago," the first man answered.

"What's he doing there?" Hannibal asked.

Neither answered that one, so B.A. grabbed the first man and was just about to send him flying when he answered, "He's intercepting a supply haul."

"More recruits," Face remembered.

"Where's it heading?" Hannibal asked.

"Colombia," the second man told them.

"When, fool?" B.A. barked at the man.

"Tomorrow night, 2100 hours."

"In what?" Hannibal demanded to know.

"A C-5A."

Jean looked to Murdock and said, "That's an Air Force transport plane, ain't it?"

"Yup," Murdock nodded.

"How many people does that hold?" Jean asked.

"Too many," Hannibal told her.

Murdock leaned over to her and said, "About 70."

"Okay," Hannibal inched closer to the two men with his finger just a little closer to the trigger and he asked them, "Is that plane loaded to maximum capacity or is Saunders overcompensating?"

"I don't know," the first man said, and when B.A. put his hands on the man's neck he screamed, "I swear to God I don't!"

"Frankly, mister, I doubt you have anything to do with God," Hannibal told him, "However I'm willing to believe you, you can let go of him, B.A."

He did, and immediately afterward Face and Murdock rushed the two men and stuck them both with syringes and both were knocked out like a couple of lights.

"What now?" Jean asked.

B.A. took their walkie talkies and crushed them with his hands, and Face and Murdock tied the two men up and dragged them over to an area concealed by heavy shrubbery.

"That'll take care of them for the time being," Hannibal said, "Now we head on over to point B and find out what's going on over there. _Then_ we're heading nonstop to Chicago to stop that plane from taking off. B.A., there's a shortcut from here that'll take us back to the helicopter so Face and Murdock can fly it over there, I think a simultaneous ambush from the ground and air would be in our best interest."

"Alright," B.A. said as they got back in the van.

Jean collected the assault rifles the two men had carried and put them in the back of the van when she got in. Hannibal told B.A. where to go and within a few minutes they could see the big black helicopter up ahead. As the van screeched to a halt, Face leaned over to the front and said, "Hey B.A., I think one of the tires on this side is punctured, I hear something hissing."

"I'll check it out," B.A. said as he opened the door. He went around to the right side and checked both tires quickly and, finding nothing wrong with either of them, turned to Face to say something, and stopped when he saw the syringe and vial the young man was holding.

Face froze and his eyes were wide with panic when he realized B.A. had caught him; but before B.A. could say anything or do anything, Jean came up behind him and hit him in the back of the head with his toolbox, resulting in a loud CLANG, and B.A. groaned and fell on the ground.

"Okay doc, he's out, stick him," Jean told Face.

"Right," Face hurriedly went about injecting B.A. since he didn't want to take a chance on him waking up early and catching him again.

"Well it's not quite how I would've done it," Hannibal noted, "But it'll have to work. Now we've got to carry him over to the copter."

"Alright, let's get this over with," Face said as he went around to lift B.A. up by his arms, "I'll take this end."

"I'll take this end," Jean said as she went to grab his feet.

"I'll take the end in the middle," Murdock said.

"And I'll open the door," Hannibal added as he walked over to the chopper.

"Maybe I've just been around you guys too long but this is getting to be kind of fun," Jean said.

"No, you haven't been around us long enough," Face replied, "Otherwise you'd be as tired of lugging this guy around as we are."

They managed to haul B.A. over to the chopper, Face at the top, Jean at the bottom and Murdock walking hunched over so his back supported the bulk of the weight, and he did it with all the finesse and heavy breathing as if he were trying to carry a couch on his back complete with a pullout bed. When they reached the Huey, Face got in first with his end and Murdock followed after him, climbing up and crawling into the back with B.A. still on top of him, and without warning, somebody lost their footing and the result was B.A. got dropped and squashed Murdock under him.

Murdock screamed and kicked under the large man and looked very similar to if a car had fallen on him, "Get him off me!"

Face and Jean grabbed B.A. and rolled him over and Murdock slid out from under him, gasping and moaning, "Oooohhhh, I'll bet I can fold up like an accordion now!"

"Are you okay, Murdock?" Face asked as he helped him up.

"Yeah I think so," Murdock replied, "I don't know why he's always complaining about flying, we're the ones that get put through the hernias."

"Speaking of which," Jean turned to Hannibal.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"How come _you_ didn't help carry him in?" she asked.

Hannibal managed to keep a straight face as he innocently asked, "Was there a fourth end to take?"

"Murdock," Jean turned to the pilot, "Get us in the air before I start getting ideas."

"Wait a minute," Face told her, "We have to get the guns out of the van first."

"We'll go get them," Hannibal said, "Uh…who's going to be the copilot?"

Jean raised her hand.

"Okay, just checking, come on, Face," Hannibal told the lieutenant.

"Wait a minute," Face broke away from Hannibal and turned back to the others, "Do you know anything about flying?"

"Not a thing," Jean answered.

Face got a look of panic on his face but he went with Hannibal and said sarcastically, "Well then she's just perfect for the job!"

Hannibal followed behind Face, just laughing at his uneasiness.

* * *

><p>"How long is he going to be out for?" Jean asked Hannibal once they had taken to the sky again.<p>

"About an hour, he'll be waking up just in time for us to surprise the troops down below," he answered.

"Right but Murdock," Face leaned over to the cockpit, "Remember to take us down a few minutes before we get there so Hannibal and I can get him out before he wakes up."

"Right-o, Faceman," Murdock nodded.

"Murdock, I don't get it," Jean said, "Why does B.A. have a problem flying with you as the pilot?"

"Oh that's right, you never rode in a plane with him," Face noted.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Jean asked.

"Planes are a lot more maneuverable than helicopters are," Hannibal answered, "Didn't you ever see that movie Capricorn One?"

"I saw that at the VA once," Murdock said as he turned around to see the others, "Great scene at the end with the chopper and the crop duster as they…"

"Murdock, watch what you're doing!" Face screamed at him.

Murdock turned back to the front and resumed watching out the window.

Jean also turned around to see the men in back and she looked at Hannibal and said, "I heard B.A. mention once that Murdock's been crazy ever since he crashed in Vietnam, is that true?"

"Well…" Hannibal started to say, but Face cut him off.

"Do you really think the army would've taken him as he is now?" he asked.

"They had the draft, didn't they?" she replied, "I was always under the impression that with that, it was a matter of it didn't matter who they got just so long as they got the most of them."

"Well you may be right about that, but even the army has its standards," Hannibal told her, "Draft or no draft."

"Okay," Jean said, "So if that's true," she gestured to Murdock, "What happened to him?"

"I would imagine living through a plane crash would be enough to drive anybody crazy," Face said.

"If that's true," she said, "Wouldn't another crash make him sane again?"

"I don't know but I'm in no mood to test that theory right now," Face told her.

"Who said anything about you?" she replied.

Hannibal laughed and commented, "She's got you there, Face."

* * *

><p>About halfway to the landing point, Murdock looked over his shoulder and called over to Face. Face got up and went over towards the cockpit and said, "Yeah, Murdock?"<p>

Murdock kept his eyes on the sky ahead of them as he said, "Uh, look Face, I wanted to talk to you about last night."

Face was starting to wonder just who in the universe it was that hated him so much, and what he ever did to them. They were a thousand feet off the ground, half an hour away from an all out attack, in a confined space with their colonel and a man who when he woke up would be more deadly than a crazed mountain lion, and Murdock just _had_ to pick this time to bring _that_ up.

"Look Murdock, I'd rather not talk about that now," he said.

"No it's just…I've been thinking about it and I know I kind of put you on the spot to go through with the wedding and, I guess it meant more to me than to you, I just…after going down the aisle the first time with Cuttor, I wanted to see what it was like to actually go through with it instead of just running off again. But I've thought about it, and I really don't think I'm cut out to be a married man, so if it's alright with you…"

Face couldn't help smiling, it was impossible to ever stay mad at this guy. He wasn't exactly sure _how_ Murdock's mind worked but he knew whenever Murdock latched onto a new train of thought he jumped into it with both feet and a boulder tied around his neck. Suppressing a laugh, he reached over and put his hand on Murdock's shoulder and told him, "Aw, it's okay Murdock, some guys just aren't cut out for marriage, at least now you know."

Murdock half turned his head to look back at him, "Then…you think we can just go back to the way things were before?"

"Sure, Murdock," he told him, "You know, we'll just write it off as…well, something just happened last night."

Their pilot seemed relieved by this decision, he sounded like a weight had been lifted off him as he said, "Well I'm glad about that, now I have nothing to feel guilty about, I wouldn't want you to think I was just stringing you along…" he stuck his nose up and added haughtily, "I am _not_ a tease."

They heard laughter from the back and Hannibal commented, "Sounds like it was one hell of a ceremony, I'm sorry I missed it."

"I'm not," Face remarked sharply.

"I was there," Jean told Hannibal, "You didn't miss much."

Hannibal just laughed again.

* * *

><p>"Come on, B.A., wake up," Hannibal said as he tapped the larger man's cheek. He tried again a little harder and this time he heard a low grumbling response from B.A., who after a minute opened his eyes and stood up.<p>

"Where are we, man?"

"Well that's just fine," Hannibal said to him, "You agree to keep a lookout for anybody coming and you fall asleep on the job."

"Huh?" B.A. asked him.

Hannibal put his gloved hands on his sides and said, "Now don't tell me you don't remember, B.A. We agreed that it would be better to leave the van out of sight and just come through the bushes to make ourselves known, _then_, Face and Murdock are going to come down in the helicopter and Face and the Saint are going to open fire on the guards from above. If that doesn't confuse them to no end, I don't know what will."

Apparently B.A.'s head still wasn't cleared from the drugs, "What?"

Hannibal put his hands on him and told him, "Come on, B.A., we've got to get moving, the chopper's going to be here any minute."

Hannibal handed him his gun and took his own off his shoulder and they disappeared into the shrubbery leading through to the second checkpoint.

"You know Hannibal, I don't remember falling asleep, but I sure had a _weird_ dream."

"Really?"

"Dreamt that all of us was on the chopper and Face and that fool Murdock got married."

Hannibal laughed and said, "Imagine that."

"_Man_ that was a weird dream."

A few minutes later they were close enough to hear people talking and they could pull back the branches and look through and see the place. Just as Murdock described, 50 men looking like they served in the army 10 years ago and never left it, never left the _war_. There was a fire built in the middle of the ground and there were automatic weapons laying spread out on the ground as far as the eye could see; but they couldn't understand what anybody was saying because it all came out as a senseless, repetitive jabber.

"What do you think it is?" B.A. quietly asked Hannibal.

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Hannibal replied, then he looked to the sky and said, "But we should find out soon."

B.A. heard it too, after Vietnam it was impossible _not_ to know the sound of an approaching helicopter, and he still didn't like it, especially since he knew _who_ was flying it.

"Here they come," Hannibal said, "Get ready."

The men around the fire heard it too, they all looked up at the black copter approaching; but nobody seemed to get too suspicious about the arrival because it was true, off in the distance were another couple of black copters just like it. As the chopper reached closer to the ground, the doors were thrown open and automatic machine gunfire opened up on the men below, who ran for cover and to retaliate with open fire of their own. But the first man to reach his AK-47 was met by an M-16 pointed straight at him as Hannibal walked out of the cover of the bushes.

"Oh I don't think you want to do that," Hannibal told him, "Just keep your hands nice and high where I can see them." Looking to the dozen men behind the first one he added, "All of you."

B.A. stepped out behind Hannibal, also ready to shoot the first sucker that moved, and then the men in green were only too happy to oblige; everybody jumped so they stood straight and their arms went high over their heads. From above, the firing ceased and the chopper came down for a landing, and Murdock, Face and Jean stepped out, also carrying guns and placed their aim among the men.

"I'm going to try this again," Hannibal said, "And I hope I have you gentlemen's cooperation. Who are you working for?"

The answer was the same: Jack Saunders, and what was happening out here was part of the men waited for trucks to come through and they inspected the contents, the drivers, and made sure that nobody passed through who wasn't supposed to. The other half of the men were the pilots and repair crews for the copters that took the shipments out.

"Well I see only two choppers here," Hannibal gestured, "How many are within your possession?"

"Five," one of the pilots answered.

"Where're the other three?"

"One's grounded in Chicago until further notice."

"And I'm going to guess that the other two are currently in use," Face commented.

"Alright, now I'm going to ask you a question," Hannibal told the man nearest him, and he closed the gap between them with his gun, "You an army man?"

"Yes sir."

"When did you serve?"

"'66 to '69, sir."

"Obviously you never knew _him_," Jean pointed to Hannibal, "He's no _sir_. _He_ is a pain in the neck Colonel."

"And I'm old fashioned enough to think buying and selling _anybody_ for _any_ purpose, _especially_ to act as drug runners for some foreign cartel that makes its blood money off of killing whole families just to show the world what they can do; and making so much money off innocent lives that the profits could finance all of Turkey for 20 years, ought to warrant anyone involved getting their head cut off and their throat spat down. But I'm a bit mellower in my progressing age."

"So what _are_ we going to do with them, Colonel?" Murdock asked. Obviously it would be impossible to load all of them into the chopper and they didn't have enough supplies to tie up everybody.

"Gentlemen," Hannibal addressed the captives, "You are going to be searched one by one, for any weapons, radios, walkie talkies, anything that looks suspicious, if you've got them, drop them now, if we search you and find them, you're going to pay the consequences for trying to conceal them."

They collected 40 knives, 30 handguns, 20 radios and walkie-talkies, and a few dime bags of what Hannibal guessed to be cocaine, without ever having to put a hand on somebody.

"Alright, Murdock," Hannibal said, "You know the ins and outs of aircraft, right? You could put a chopper together if you had to, couldn't you?"

"Sure I could," Murdock answered, though the situation had never actually come up for him to try it.

"Well then take these apart and make sure they never see zenith again," Hannibal told him.

The colonel couldn't miss the heartbroken look on the captain's face when he said that, but Murdock understood it was a necessary evil so he went to dismantle the helicopters.

"B.A.," Hannibal turned to the sergeant, "Take care of those jeeps."

"Right, Hannibal." B.A. went over to the jeeps and started by grabbing them and flipping them over.

"I'm going to notify the National Guard, I think they'll be most interested in what's going on here," Hannibal told the others, "Even without the two final links, we've got 50 people here connected to a drug smuggling ring that they do business with under the guise of going overseas to help serve the country."

"You really think they're going to bother doing anything with them?" Jean asked disbelievingly, "They're _all_ military."

"So are we," he reminded her.

"Well what about us?" Face asked Hannibal, "What do we do?"

"You watch them," Hannibal gestured to the men, "If anybody so much as sneezes, shoot them."

Jean saluted him with her free arm and said, "Will do."

* * *

><p>"Don't take it personally, it's not you," Murdock told one of the helicopter parts as he tossed it into the bushes, "It's them," he pointed back to the crew members, "I'm sure someday you'll take to the sky again but for today you must cease and desist."<p>

He had also during his process of taking the copters apart, stumbled upon two cases containing heroin that added up to an amount automatically worth 120 years in the federal penitentiary, and shown them to the Colonel, who made sure they were out in plain sight for when the National Guard arrived.

"You done, Murdock?" Hannibal asked as he came up to the pilot.

"Yeah," Murdock said with a pout, "I got them all gutted and…they won't be flying today, Colonel."

Hannibal clapped his hand on Murdock's shoulder and told him, "I can appreciate what a sacrifice you had to make, but it's for the greater good, Captain."

"Yes sir," Murdock said halfheartedly.

Hannibal left him and went to see how B.A. was coming with the jeeps, and he didn't have to ask to find out; what previously had been eight top of the line army vehicles now looked like some angry kid had smashed his toy car collection with a sledgehammer.

"Looks good, B.A.," he said, then he returned his attention to the 50 men who hadn't moved a muscle in almost an hour because Face and Jean hadn't lowered their guns yet, "Now gentlemen, if we find out that Jack Saunders or David Grant got any warning from anyone here, we're going to come back and track each and every one of you down and make you sorry you were ever born. If you think we're bluffing, by all means, after we're gone, try and warn them, you'll see what happens."

They heard sirens coming and knew they had to get out of there, so they took off back for the copter. Once past the bushes, Jean tripped and hit the ground hard; B.A. picked her up and carried her over to the chopper and passed her over to Murdock and Face who were already inside. Hannibal came up behind B.A. and jabbed him in the neck with another syringe and after a few seconds he was out like a light; since he was already positioned at the open door, he fell _into_ the chopper and all that was required on everybody else's part was a little dragging over. Murdock got them into the air and they went back to get the van.

"Maybe it wasn't a _complete_ waste of sodium pentothal but it's too bad he couldn't just take the flight for an hour until we get back to the van," Hannibal commented, "We're going to be driving it to Chicago anyway."

"Wait a minute, Colonel," Murdock turned around to see him, "What about the chopper?"

"Oh don't worry Murdock, you'll get to keep it," Hannibal told him, "I'm counting on you to fly it there but we need the van too…and B.A. should be happy because for once that's just where he's going to wake up."

"Murdock would you mind watching where you're taking us?" Face asked him.

Murdock turned back around and watched the nonexistent air traffic around them.

"We're getting closer to zero hour," Jean told Hannibal as she turned around to see him, "I sincerely hope you're up for it."

"Don't worry about us, Miss Rhodes," he replied self assuredly, "We've been at this a little longer than you have."

Jean was quiet for a minute before she responded, "Mr. Smith, I don't believe you've been through _anything_ that I have." And she turned back in her seat.

Hannibal turned to Face and murmured to him, "Did she say what I think she did?"

Face nodded, and said nothing but mouthed the word, "Mister."

"I guess hell must be starting to freeze over," Hannibal said under his breath.

"Or maybe it's just opening up for the new resident," Jean said from up front in the cockpit.

"What's that?" Hannibal leaned forward to hear her.

Jean turned around to see him again and explained, "A few days ago, Murdock received a premonition from the dead…said during the final fight, somebody's going to die, and I've seen you guys in action, Smith, you're good, you're _very _good, but I'm not giving much for any of our chances on this one. If we had nothing to worry about, why would the dead feel any need to tell us the outcome?"

Hannibal turned to Face who only nodded in confirmation of what she said; this was the first he'd heard about that, and he honestly didn't know what to think about that. He mouthed "You're sure?" to Face, implying not did they hear Murdock right, but was Face sure that it was something real and not just Murdock playing games with them. A lot of times it was hard to tell between the two but the grave look on the lieutenant's face as he slowly nodded told Hannibal that Face believed it was as real as any of them.

"Well," Hannibal said, "This should be a very interesting fight."


	19. Chapter 19

B.A. felt his head swimming and he started to wake up and realized they were in his van, but Hannibal was driving it.

"What's going on, man, where are we?" he asked as he looked around.

"Well unless somebody put up the road signs just to be funny, we should be entering Chicago soon," Hannibal told him, "You conked out on us as soon as we got back to the van."

B.A. turned around and saw they were the only two people in the van, "Where everybody else?"

"Back in the chopper," Hannibal told him, "I thought it might be a good idea to let them travel separately from us for a while."

"Well at least I don't have to hear that crazy fool ramble on about his invisible dog," B.A. commented, "So what's the plan now?"

"That plane doesn't go out until tomorrow night, it's getting late now so we're going to find a place to stop off for the night. Murdock said he was going to land the helicopter near the first airport he saw, and then they were going to find a place for us to stay and we can swing by and pick them up."

A few minutes later the phone rang and B.A. picked it up. Face had found a hotel in the phone book that was close by and affordable and gotten them two rooms for the night, though this time they were clear across the hall. They were at the airport and waiting for the others to come and get them.

"Okay, we' be there soon," B.A. told him, hung up, and told Hannibal, "Step on it, I ain't gonna linger around the airport, might give you ideas."

"You know, B.A.," Hannibal said coyly, "If I didn't know you better I might think that you didn't trust me."

The only response he got was a low growl from B.A., so he decided not to press the issue.

As it turned out they didn't have long to wait for anything, Face, Murdock and Jean were at the front gate waiting and as soon as they saw the van they ran for it. They went to the hotel where Face got them reservations, and the unanimous opinion was thank God they were only staying there one night; the place looked like it was falling apart and they could all guess that there wasn't much size difference in the cockroaches and the bellhops. They hadn't gone in yet because Hannibal didn't even want to take a chance on the food there so they found a restaurant a couple blocks away and went there for dinner. They parked the van around the back and went in; it wasn't by any means a fancy place to eat or particularly clean, but it would do for the night.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

Hannibal reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, "You remember our friends back at the checkpoint? One of them was only too happy to give me the exact directions of where Saunders is hiding out in this city. And as it turns out it's right next to the airstrip where the transport plane is going to take off tomorrow night. Now, I don't know _where_ Saunders is going to be tomorrow, but we're going out there tomorrow morning to find that plane and make sure it never takes off."

"Ohhh Hannibal do I have to take it apart too?" Murdock groaned.

"Not necessarily, if you'd rather show us what you can do as a crash pilot."

"Aw Hannibal," B.A. spoke up, "You know this fool been crazy ever since he crashed his plane back in Vietnam, you want him to go and get even crazier?"

"The main thing is that they can't fly that plane out tomorrow night because it's going to have the recruits on it," Hannibal reminded them.

"But where are they in the meantime?" Face asked.

"That's a good question," Hannibal turned to Jean, "I'm going to go on a limb and guess you have some idea about that one?"

"They're being brought in from the base in New York," Jean answered.

"Why?"

She shrugged and explained, "Their training's begun, they go wherever Saunders is and he checks them over one last time and sends them on the plane out with a case of drugs and a bunch of the weapons they'll be using over there to kill the rival cartel members. Don't ask me to explain it, Smith, I've seen this stuff going on for six months and it doesn't make anymore sense now than it did. But I just can't figure out how he built it all up again so fast."

"Well don't take it personally," Hannibal told her, "When business is good, nothing can stop it, and the smuggling business within the military has been going strong since the body bags in Vietnam. It only makes sense it wouldn't have stopped when the war did, and would only escalate."

"Then they really _did_ die for nothing," Jean said as she hit her head against the table.

"Not exactly," Hannibal said as he reached over and patted the back of her head, "You had them scared, if only for a while, you managed to create doubt between Grant and Saunders, I think that their trust with each other is starting to weaken."

"It doesn't matter, they're still working together," she told him as she picked her head up again.

"Not for long," Hannibal replied, "After tomorrow they're all going to be out of business. All we have to do now is make sure we don't run into…"

"MPs again!" Murdock said as he saw the men in green come in the front of the restaurant.

Face turned to Hannibal and asked, "How did they find out where we were _this_ time?"

"I don't know but they're not gonna catch us yet," Hannibal told him, "Let's go."

They made a break for the kitchen and managed to avoid colliding with any of the staff and get out the back exit but as soon as they got to the street, they were blinded by several lights popping on simultaneously. When they were able to see again, they could see 20 MPs and Lynch standing in the center, and Lynch was looking very pleased with himself.

"Well well well Smith," he said with a sickening smirk, "It looks like your game is up this time."

"Somehow I doubt that, Lynch," Hannibal replied, "Ours is a game that never ends incase you forgot."

"Except there's no way out for you now," Lynch told him, "So I…"

All eyes had been focused on the A-Team so nobody had been watching behind Lynch, so nobody saw Jean rush up behind him and she put a gun to his head and screamed into his ear, "You move and you're dead, colonel!" The MPs turned and had their guns drawn but Jean kept the gun pressed to the back of Lynch's skull and told them, "You drop your weapons or your colonel dies, NOW!"

Nobody was willing to press their luck. Rifles and handguns hit the street into a macabre collection of firepower.

"Now get your hands up, ALL of you!" Jean ordered them.

Everybody's hands went up, including the A-Team's. It was Hannibal who took the risk to speak to her.

"Brutus," he told her with a shake of his head, "Don't do this, he's not worth it."

"Sorry, Smith," Jean told him, "But it has to be done, this insanity _has_ to end, and if _somebody's _going to die, it _is_ going to be the precious colonel Lynch here." She looked at the back of Lynch's head and addressed him personally, "Never saw _anybody_ waste so much time and manpower and taxpayers money on something so stupid as hunting down four men who are not a threat to anybody but the criminals. You're good people, Smith, you help people, you save lives, you save the innocent people that the police can't and the military _won't_ because they don't give a damn about helping anybody innocent." She said the last part directly into Lynch's ear, then shook her head and grinned sinisterly, "Not me, all I do is cause _death_ and _destruction_ everywhere I go!"

Lynch heard the gun cock as she added, "And it's going to happen again here tonight, and it's going to happen to the precious colonel. This is where your titles and your formalities get you, gentlemen, the same place as honor, dignity, loyalty and all that bull they feed you in the army…" she lowered the aim of the gun and used it as a pointer, "Into the ground, it's what it all amounts to." She had the gun back to Lynch's head as she said, "You love to serve your country, you want to _die_ for your country, Colonel? You _were_ aware when you took this job that that was one of the risks that went along with it, weren't you? Aren't you proud of yourself, Lynch? It's a proud man who dies for the sake of his country, isn't that right?"

"Brutus!" Hannibal screamed at her, "I don't enjoy killing _anybody_, but if somebody _does_ have to die tonight, it's going to be you, not Lynch."

"You can't be serious," Jean was practically laughing.

"I am," Hannibal told her, "You let him go, or I'll shoot you."

"No, they're going to let you go, or I'm shooting him," Jean corrected him, and she addressed the MPs, "It's either the four of them go, or you're going to bury your colonel, I'll let you decide which is more important. Now, everybody keep your hands up, get away from the van, let them pass through, nobody even breathe funny or the colonel gets it."

Slowly, one by one, they got to the van and got in it, Hannibal turned back and hollered to Jean, "That's enough, Brutus, let him go."

"Nothing doing, Smith," she replied, "Nobody's moving until you're gone, or he dies."

"No," Hannibal told her, "_You_ do."

Quicker than the eye could see, Hannibal raised a gun and fired at them; nobody saw her get hit because there was an explosion and a curtain of smoke where she had been standing. Lynch yelped and turned around and saw his assailant was gone and he about passed out with relief. As everybody scrambled to find out what had happened and where she had gone, Jean ran over to the van and was practically hauled into it as they sped out of there.

"Oh you're good, kid, you're very good," Hannibal said once they left the MPs behind them, "But it was one hell of a risk you were taking. How did you know that I keep blanks in this gun?"

"You keep blanks in there?" she asked with a knowing smirk, "How did you know that it was a setup?"

"Well I remembered you kept smoke flares and firecrackers in one of your bags, I figured they'd probably be seeing use sooner or later," Hannibal told her, "And I figured there was another reason you were standing behind Lynch besides using him as a shield, you stayed out of sight so nobody could see the fuse being lit."

"But we're back to square one, _how_ did Lynch find out where we were?" Face asked.

"I don't know but we ain't going back to that roach motel now," B.A. told him.

"Just figures," Murdock commented, "We finally get to our proper destination and in comes the army to wreck our plans."

"Hannibal, is it possible that that guy Burgess you dumped out of state got out of jail and got hold of Lynch?" Face asked.

"I wouldn't think so already, but I suppose anything's possible," Hannibal remarked, and he turned to Jean and added, "And speaking of which, you can be a pretty good actor when you want to be, can't you?"

"It's a gift," she replied sarcastically, "They certainly weren't expecting that."

"Neither were we," Face told her. He personally had about had a heart attack when he saw her pull the gun on Lynch; he had just known it would be the end for all of them.

"It was a hell of a risk to take," Hannibal told her.

"Not really," Jean said, "They were waiting for you at the back, they didn't see me come around front and double back there, and they weren't going to take a risk of their colonel getting shot either, you know that. So actually, ironically enough, behind Lynch is one of the safest places to be because nobody's going to take a chance on hitting him."

"Well do us a favor and _don't_ try it again," he warned her.

"So where're we going now, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"It would seem we've run out of places to go," Jean said, "This whole time they've been chasing us, we kept heading towards Chicago, now we're in it and they're still behind us."

"I guess it wouldn't help if we tried staying at B.A.'s mom's for the night," Face commented.

"That would be the first place the MPs would look," Hannibal said.

"Alright," Murdock said, "Then let them go there and look first, and then when they can't find us, _then_ we go there."

"Have to admit there's something to _that_ idea," Face told Hannibal.

"That might be but I don't like the idea of dragging her into this as well," Hannibal replied, "We'll just get out of the area and find a place to stop off for the night, and come back tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Another night in a sleazy motel, this time there had only been one room available with two double beds; they had taken it and Hannibal had figured either Face or both he and Murdock would be bunking with him tonight, everybody naturally knew to leave B.A. alone when he was trying to sleep. But he had been surprised, instead the two of them and the Saint piled the extra pillows and sheets on the floor and fell asleep there, the three of them practically piled on top of each other like a football game.<p>

By this time tomorrow night, Hannibal anticipated for the whole damn mess to finally be over; all the deaths, all the trafficking, all the lives bought and sold for blood money, it was all going to come crashing down on Saunders' head, they would see to that. And when that was over, they would put Jean back in the chopper with Murdock and have him fly her back to New York; the pilot knew the skies enough to know it was a five hour flight providing they didn't run into any trouble. Hannibal started doing the math in his head of what hour in the morning it would be when they got her back to her parents, hopefully they were early risers, otherwise it would be one hell of a wakeup call, but it would be worth it, he knew that also.

This had certainly been one of their more interesting missions, Hannibal felt certain that never again in any of their lives would they ever work a case that was anything like this one. He looked over the foot of his bed to the three lumps on the floor and was almost sorry that they had to be broken up; he couldn't explain it but over the last couple of weeks, those three had practically become triplets. But Hannibal knew they were doing the right thing, they simply couldn't keep the kid with them; it wasn't just a matter of returning her to her parents, she didn't belong with them, she didn't belong in this life. She had held her own very well when she was alone and had no choice, but they just about had her out of it completely now. In spite of everything, she wasn't too far gone that she couldn't go home again and have a normal life; one where she didn't have to look over her shoulder and always be on the lookout for MPs and cars with red lights and wonder if every day was her last or if she would rot in a military prison.

He could accept that as his own fate, all four of them could and did, but there was still time enough to get Jean out of this mess before she completely sank in the quicksand. It wasn't in his nature to let on when he liked new people, he always kept them reserved at arm's length for a while after he decided, but he did like this kid, and he liked her parents from what he'd seen of them. He had been there in the dark alleys, the late nights, the pouring down rain, one disguise after another after another, putting them through one test after another, each more ridiculous and strenuous than the last, to see if they were worthy of the team's services. That had been before they even knew what the case was, they knew it involved a problem within the family but not the details; not one of their finer moments since they were always supposed to know more about their would-be clients than they knew about the team, but even so he thought it had turned out well.

He had no children, and knew that the three men on his team were the closest he would ever come to being a father; but he knew if he had any kids and one of them had come up missing as the Saint had, if he wasn't able to do anything himself, he would've done exactly the same things that her parents had done if it meant finding somebody that could bring them back. And he remembered Jean's warning to him in the beginning, they were nice people but couldn't afford the Team's rates; and they'd said they would pay any price if it meant getting their daughter back. He could tell they were good people, they truly loved their daughter or they wouldn't have gone to all the trouble and sacrifices that they had made; that was all the proof he needed to deflect anything Jean had had to say about herself and the worth or lack thereof that she meant to anybody while she was alive. Due to situations beyond any person's control she had considered herself a coward and a failure, but to that middle aged couple back in New York, she meant the whole world; and that was what made so many of their missions worth the time and money and danger. Jean had been right about that, they helped people, and more times than not they had been charity cases; soldiers of fortune may have been an impressive title, but it was _no_ way to get rich, but it was what they did.

Face, Murdock and Jean had been tossing and turning over on the floor in their sleep and now Murdock and Jean were piled on top of Face and had their elbows and their feet in direct contact with his nose and his mouth, and he was completely oblivious to it all. Hannibal would've laughed but he wasn't about to wake anybody up. The girl didn't fool him; she could act like their presence was a burden on her work but he knew she didn't resent having them around like she pretended to. In her mind, he supposed, she still saw it as an attempt to protect them, to keep _them_ safe, now that was the real joke. They were four soldiers who had lived in hell for years before coming back home and she thought _they_ needed protecting. But it did prove one thing, she had a heart somewhere in that armored chest and it was obviously in the right place; right or wrong, anything she had done she had done for what she believed was a greater good. And it was hard to dispute; on the surface it seemed very black and white, she murdered men she never even knew, so she must be a cold blooded murderer. Then you chip beneath the surface, and find out _why_ she did it; motive might not have been a requirement for a trial but when it came to street justice, a motive was everything and she had a damn good one to back up her actions.

In war there was no black or white, two sides were thrown together for reasons beyond anybody's explanation or control and told to wipe out as many people on the other side as was possible, but all without ever being given a reason why. In war, people died every day, people killed every day, it was no crime so long as the 'right' people died; and _how_ did you determine who that was in a war? You didn't, somebody in a higher authority told you who that was and you had to act on those orders or you were a traitor. He remembered back to those days in Vietnam; he had seen things that he would never forget and that he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. He had seen American soldiers torture and murder Vietnamese women and children, and the ones that tried to put a stop to it…well they were just put on a plane and flown back for a dishonorable discharge for disobeying their commanding officers' orders, and the slaughters continued as soon as the plane was off the ground. Those had been the memories that about drove him crazy, about drove them all crazy; they had all been affected the same way by the massacres.

Thinking about it, given all the horrors that they were witness to and on occasion forced to take part in every single day for whole periods of time, it was a wonder that among them Murdock was the only one who went insane. And why then, since he was, had he been the only thing keeping the Rhodes girl teetering on the brink of her own sanity? Murdock might know crazy but Hannibal had watched too many men from the war lose their minds, he had seen the events slowly building up before finally boiling over; and he had been able to see it with this girl as well. The life she'd lived for six months, the people she'd killed, the people she had seen killed, it all worked together to slowly drain her own sanity from her and she was just about to take a nose dive off the edge when they met her. After the first few days passed, Murdock was the only thing keeping her afloat; the fact that these two could communicate so perfectly while they each stood on opposite sides of the borderline did nothing short of amaze Hannibal, though naturally he never let on.

Of course there was always the age old question that everybody had been asking for 10 long years, _was_ Murdock faking it? Nobody could answer that one, and Hannibal had decided it really didn't matter. If Murdock _was_ faking being crazy, then let him have his fun, if he wasn't, so what? He had proven it in no way compromised his ability to work in the Team, either way he wasn't hurting anybody, and he knew B.A. had a higher tolerance of Murdock's antics than he ever really let on. But crazy or not, this man had been able to speak the same language of this kid, something that Hannibal knew none of the rest of them would ever be able to accomplish. How did that work? Out of the four of them, how did she pick _this_ man to trust before anyone else?

The more Hannibal thought about it, it seemed a bit odd; small children always trusted B.A., always wiser than adults they could see past the intimidating size and appearance and knew they could trust this large man and count on him for help, and women always trusted Face, it was a direct result of his neverending conman charm, though his sincerity where a lot of them were concerned was often genuine since his heart had a tendency to flop out anytime a lady was in need of assistance. But few people actually trusted Murdock and instead most just became nervous after listening to him talk or seeing the things he did. But for some reason, this kid picked Murdock of all people to latch onto as somebody to trust. That was something else he couldn't figure out, and he decided it was too late in the night to bother trying. They already had their hands full for tomorrow, he would ponder that particular mystery of the universe another time.

* * *

><p>"You know, I just thought of something," Face said the next morning as they headed out to Saunders' hideout, he turned to Jean and told her, "I don't think any of us has ever even seen a picture of this guy, Saunders. You have the photographs of all the men who were in the ring, don't you have one of him too?"<p>

"Sure I got a picture of Saunders, hang on, I'll get it," Jean replied as she grabbed one of her bags and opened it up.

"One thing about it, Grant certainly is a punctual man," Hannibal pointed to the radar screen, "He should beat us to the place by a good ten minutes."

"And then we crash the party," Murdock said.

"Right, but _how_ are the recruits being brought here?" Face asked, "That's what I'd like to know."

"Well it wouldn't make much sense to fly them here on one plane and then put them on another," Murdock noted, "So they must be driving them in."

"On what, a tour bus?" Face asked.

Murdock shrugged in response.

"Ah, here it is," Jean took a photograph out of her bag and handed it over to Face, "Here's Saunders, since I know it's going to come up again."

He looked at the photo and tried to see if he recognized this man from anywhere; the face didn't ring a bell, Saunders looked about 50 with short black hair, gray eyes, lightly tanned skin and a scar going down one cheek.

"Ugly guy," Face said as he passed the picture to Murdock, who barked at it and handed it to Hannibal up front.

Hannibal took the cigar out of his mouth and froze. His eyebrows knitted together and he said, "This is Saunders? This is the guy that shot Jean Rhodes?"

"Yeah, why?" Jean asked.

Hannibal kept his eyes low to focus on the picture and he answered, "I think I know this man. I remember him from Vietnam, only he didn't go by the name Jack Saunders back then."

"I don't recognize him," Face said.

"No, that was before I met you, any of you," Hannibal told him, "Back then this guy went by the name Frank Carter, he was a commanding officer when we first reached the jungle, he personally ordered the troops to round up the mothers and children from the village and execute them. The way he saw it, since we were at war with the Vietnamese, then all the people there deserved to die, and unfortunately he had a lot of men in brass backing him on that one. Anybody tried to stop it, he had them flown out and discharged, branded a traitor because they questioned his authority and interfered with his orders, and that was good enough for the courts-martial." He turned back to Jean and told her, "They like to make it sound like dishonorable discharges only happen under extremist circumstances, murder, rape, that sort of thing, but try telling a CO he can't butcher women and children, you'll be thrown out of there faster than a fly ball at a Dodgers game."

"So what did you do?" Jean asked him.

"Well there wasn't anybody that could stop him or have _him_ court-martialed, but you better believe as long as we were in the same area, I made his daily life an overall misery. Nothing he could ever actually pin on me, but he knew who was responsible. Finally he wound up in a field hospital after he was shot half a dozen times."

"They should've reloaded," Jean commented.

"After that, he was sent back home, of course he was made out to be a damn hero, what else could they do with him?" Hannibal replied, "But I sure never thought I'd see his face again, and you're telling me _this_ is the head of the ring?"

"That's right," she answered, "So how did this guy become a drill sergeant?"

"Most likely he was just playing the role of one, was he there all the time?" Hannibal asked.

"I wouldn't know, of all the people I had screaming at me, he wasn't one of them, remember he was for the SEALs," Jean answered.

"Well he probably just identified himself as one so the recruits wouldn't get suspicious," Hannibal said, "Odds are he probably only showed up when they decided who was going across the border."

"So tell me something, Smith," Jean said, "If I'd shown you this guy's picture before now, would it have made any difference about anything?"

"Not much of one, no," Hannibal shook his head.

"Well," Face suddenly had a bad feeling about this, "This should be very interesting."

* * *

><p>"That's the place?" Face asked an hour later when they stopped a couple hundred yards away from the place where Grant was supposed to be arriving.<p>

The building up ahead looked like a cross between a castle and a hospital, it stood three stories tall in tan and white brick and looked like there should be bars in the windows and a moat surrounding it instead of a paved driveway leading practically up to the front door.

"Must be, you don't see anything else around here, do you?" Jean asked.

"And I'll bet if you go behind the house, you'll find the path leading out to the airstrip _and_ the plane."

Face could already see the gears turning in Murdock's head on that one.

"Well I don't see Saunders anywhere," Face commented, "Or whatever his name is."

"Probably inside waiting on Grant," Jean said, "You can be sure he's got about a hundred cameras all over this place."

"He probably does," Hannibal answered nonchalantly.

"And all of them running on TV monitors so he can see everything that's going on around here."

"Most likely," Hannibal added.

"And knowing him he's probably got the place booby trapped so if anybody comes around who shouldn't be here, they get mowed down by a hidden machine gun or something," Jean also thought.

"I would too if I lived in a place like this," Hannibal told her, "But, when Grant gets here in a few minutes, he's going to have to turn the system to those traps _off_. He wouldn't take a chance on his partner getting killed accidentally."

"Speak of the devil and up he pops," Murdock said as he looked out the back, "Here comes the car now."

Of course the van had been well concealed so when the Eldorado convertible drove up, the driver never noticed that somebody was watching him. They watched the car drive up to the house and the front door opened and a man stepped out; they were too far away to see it clearly but Hannibal was certain the man on the stairs was the same egotistical crackpot he knew back in the army. B.A. buried the accelerator into the floor of the van and they sped up so fast that they about drove through the front window and into the house. The van swerved out to the side and in a crooked U-turn and the doors were thrown open and the five occupants stepped out with guns aimed at the two men.

There wasn't any doubt for Hannibal now, yes, this man, the apparent ringleader of the whole blood trade _was_ Commanding Officer Frank Carter, who apparently had only gotten worse with age. And the recognition was mutual.

"Hannibal Smith," the man said haughtily, "I guess it's true what they say, if you wait long enough, _everything_ comes back."

"Yeah, well I'll let you know when disco's king again," Hannibal replied as he restrained from moving a single muscle, or adjusting his aim one inch in any direction other than straight ahead at Carter.

The man wasn't fazed in the least by having five rifles aimed at him and he seemed to subtly be egging Hannibal on to try something. "I shouldn't be surprised you'd show up, John," he said, "You never could stay out of other people's business."

"Buddy when you're ordering the torture of mothers and kids for information you know they don't have, it _is_ my business," Hannibal replied, "And I see like a banana you've only rotted as time's gone by. Selling army recruits as drug runners for cartels and blowing out the brains of anybody who's got the guts to say no. Oh you've come a long way alright, and you're going to keep going a long way, all the way down to that final southern residence."

"And I see you haven't changed any," he replied, and looked past the A-Team, to the woman who stood alongside them as he added, "Still taking the word of unreliable pieces of trash over that of somebody who actually _knows_ what they're doing."

"Oh I trust you know what you're doing, Carter," Hannibal told him, "Just like Josef Mengele always knew what he was doing, your problem was you were from the wrong generation and put in the wrong war, you would've done well in the concentration camps."

"Same old John Smith," Frank said with a sickening smirk on his face, "Still trying to save every poor wretch in the world instead of accepting that survival of the fittest is the only law that counts."

"If that's the case," Hannibal said to the man, "We should've buried you years ago."

"And I suppose you think that you're going to stop me now?" Carter asked.

"That was the general idea," Hannibal answered, "Though you shouldn't be surprised, you always knew how I worked."

"So I did, pity you were never able to learn how I worked."

Hannibal realized that they weren't alone and there were several more pairs of eyes on them than there had been at the beginning. Coming out of hiding from the sides of the house were a dozen other men all with guns drawn and aimed at the team.

"No, I always knew how you worked, Carter," Hannibal replied, "You always needed a hundred flunkies under you to do your dirty work while you gave the orders and watched. That's why you were such a great CO, you weren't capable of doing any of the actual work yourself."

But nothing he said seemed to have any effect on the man, he laughed at all of Hannibal's remarks and accusations and told the colonel, "John, you're just like me, you've just never been able to admit it."

"Like you?" Hannibal got a look on his face like that statement left a bad taste in his mouth, "That's where you're wrong, Carter, I'm nothing like you."

"You don't think so?"

"No," Hannibal firmly answered, "I remember exactly what kind of man you were…and I gotta tell you, compared to the tyrant you used to be, you're a joke now. The dirt bag I knew back in 'Nam didn't need greed to persuade him to do anything, his need to be dominant and overpowering and his hatred of anybody weaker than himself was enough to go on. It used to be when you killed, it was just for your own sick amusement, now you're turning a profit on it."

"It's all a business, John," the man said, "Just like what you do now."

Jean let out a guffaw and said, "You clearly _don't_ know him."

But Frank Carter stood his ground and reminded Hannibal, "_I_ wasn't the one caught with a million dollars from a robbed bank during the war, I guess money's always been a motivating factor for you, John."

Hannibal had kept one eye on Carter and tried to keep his other eye on all the other men and he must've blinked because they seemed to be closer now.

"Once again, John, you had to come meddling in where you had no business, and now you have to answer for it," Carter told him, "Drop your weapons, _now_."

The others watched Hannibal who gave the slightest nod and one by one they dropped their guns. Five of the men came closer to Face and Murdock; Face tried to think of someway to get out of there while Murdock sniffed the air and said, "Hey Face, you smell that?"

"What is it?" Jean asked.

"It's nothing, nothing, Murdock," Face told him, and he leaned over to Jean and told her, "Murdock gets dangerous sometimes when he hears certain words so make sure whatever you do, don't say…" he saw Murdock turn and smile at him and he smiled in return but whispered the word into Jean's ear.

"Don't say ammonia?" she repeated.

"AMMONIA!" Murdock howled like an animal and threw himself at the armed men, managing to knock his body against three of them and cause them to fall down. The other two tried to shoot him but B.A. grabbed them and bashed their heads together.

Hannibal, Face and Jean managed to rush the other gunmen and between the five of them, it quickly became a knock down drag out fight that if it weren't so serious, would've looked perfectly in place with the 3 Stooges. B.A. grabbed men and threw them clear over his head, Hannibal knocked Grant in the jaw and knocked him down and then set his sights on Carter, who beat him to the punch and instead kicked Hannibal in the mouth and knocked him back. Murdock used his body as a projectile to throw at anybody in the way and he wound up taking several people down at once like bowling pins, after which they were caught in a pretzel of limbs and he went through all the feet and arms he came across, twisting them and bending them back to see who yelled. Face snagged one guy by the back of his shirt and tossed him before also getting knocked down; but he jumped back up and kneed the man closest to him and kicked him and sent him to the ground.

During the fight, a gun went off but whoever was the intended target had been missed and instead the bullet hit Grant, and he slumped over with a groan and was dead as soon as he hit the ground. The sight of his corpse set something off in Jean and she turned her attention, like Hannibal, to Carter, who at this moment was evenly pitted against Hannibal and trying to knock his head off. Jean came up behind him and threw her weight against him and used all of her strength to grab him from the back and pull him off Hannibal and she slammed him against the side of the house. She jumped back before he could grab her and she grabbed him by the arm and threw him on the ground and twisted his arm until she heard something snap, but just to make sure he couldn't use it she stomped her foot on his hand and heard something crack and Carter let out a brief yelp of pain but otherwise didn't respond.

"Come on you," Jean said as she grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled his upper body up and slammed his head against the side of the house again, "Huh? You didn't have any problem killing Jean at the base, or anybody else who got in your way but you can't take the same medicine, can you?" She wrapped her hands around Carter's neck and was throttling him to the point she was about to snap it like a twig when she felt a set of leather gloves wrap around her and pull her back from the man, and she realized it was Hannibal.

"Let him go, kid, he's not worth it," Hannibal told her.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Smith!" she said as she struggled against him and continued choking Carter.

"I do!" Hannibal replied as he jerked her whole body back and forced her away from Carter, "I saw him kill more people than you have, and he's still not worth it. I know you don't have any faith in the army's system and I know it well enough to understand why and I can't blame you, but this _isn't_ the answer." He was in her face now so she could see his eyes as he spoke to her and there wasn't anywhere else for her to look. "It's people like this that give the army its bad reputation, but it's the same with every group in the world, for all the people in it to do good by it, there are always a few who hide behind it for their own purposes and bring the whole organization down by their own actions."

"This is _more_ than a _few_, Smith!" Jean told him.

"I know it! And you believe me, Lynch and his boys are going to hear every word about what's been going on here and _that_ is going to take precedence over him catching us and he is going to make sure that this guy never sees the light of day again, _any_ of them. Death is too easy for these people because they face it every day as part of the job anyway, let them live and suffer as they rot, that's the real justice."

Jean looked back at Carter who by now was laying on the ground in his own blood and hardly conscious anymore. She didn't say anything but Hannibal could tell she believed him. Hannibal turned to see how the others were doing and he couldn't help laughing; all the gunmen had been knocked down, disarmed and were all lined up and getting tied up.

"That's unbelievable," Jean said.

"No," Face pointed, "_That_ is."

Apparently Murdock hadn't realized the fight was over because he was still rolling around on the ground screaming bloody murder, and he had practically managed to wrap his body up into a pretzel as he continued the one man melee, acting like he was still taking on a whole pack of men.

"Get up, fool!" B.A. told him, "And quit twisting your foot!"

"Huh?" Murdock looked over at B.A. and looked back at the shoe he had tried to turn clear around with the foot still attached to it and realized it was his own Converse sneaker. He let go of it and started to get up and he asked Hannibal, "Where'd everybody go, Colonel?"

Hannibal pointed, "Over there."

Murdock saw the men lined up on the ground and asked, "Did I do that?"

"Well," Face said, "Part of it anyway."

"We'll check out the house and see what we find there," Hannibal said, "Murdock, you go find the plane, check it out."

"I'm going with him," Jean told him.

"Fine with me," Hannibal replied, "Murdock should be able to keep you out of trouble."

B.A. groaned and shook his head at that suggestion.

They collected their guns again and Murdock and Jean went around to the back of the house and they could see the plane off in the distance.

"So what're you going to do?" Jean asked him, "Take it apart?"

"I'm going to take a look inside first," he told her.

"Murdock," Jean called behind him, "_Could_ you fly this thing?"

"Sure I could," he answered, "I can fly _anything_."

"Murdock, look!"

Murdock turned back to see what was the matter and saw she was pointing over to the side and he looked and saw another black helicopter a couple hundred feet away.

"Boy these babies are _every_where!" Murdock said.

Jean poked him in the back and asked him, "You think these were leftover from Vietnam?"

"Could be, if I had to guess I'd say they're about that old, everything's exactly as I remember them being," Murdock replied, "I guess they found a way to smuggle the choppers that weren't crashed beyond repair out of there as well and fix them up to use for another day."

"Then how did Carter get his hands on them?" she asked.

"Well he was a CO, I'm sure he had connections with somebody when he left," Murdock thought as he walked around the Huey and examined every inch, "Unfortunately people like him _always_ have someone to help them. Sickos like him never walk alone."

Murdock heard Jean scream behind him and as he turned to see what was the matter, he felt something hit him in the back of the head and then everything went black.

* * *

><p>When Murdock woke up, he saw Face standing over him.<p>

"Murdock, what happened?" he asked, "Are you alright?'

What _did_ happen? He tried to remember. He sat up and saw Hannibal was there also.

"Somebody hit me in the back of the head, I didn't see who it was," he told them, "How long have I been out?" He noticed that the position of the sun had changed since he last saw it.

"About an hour," Face said.

"Where's Jean?" Hannibal asked.

"I don't know, I heard her scream, then I got knocked out," Murdock said as he stood up.

"Then somebody else is here," Face told Hannibal, "Everybody else is tied up around front."

"But where did they take her?" Hannibal asked, "We've already looked through that whole house, there wasn't anybody there either, and I don't see any other place around here that anybody could be hiding."

Murdock waited for the dizziness to pass, then he went over to the airplane and opened the cargo hold to see if anybody was in it, there wasn't.

"You thought they were in there?" Face asked.

"Well she might've been," he answered, "I'll check inside, since they knew we were going to tamper with it, they might've put her in there so she'd be killed in the crash."

As soon as Murdock was gone, Hannibal told Face, "We'll let him look to make sure but I don't think she's in there, take a look," and he nodded his head down.

Face saw what Hannibal saw; the ground below them was of an extremely sandy texture, and perfectly showed several sets of footprints, including one set that stopped, and then was dragged away, and two other sets walked in the same direction.

"That leads back to the house," Hannibal said, "We'll go check it out again."

On the way back to the house, they saw B.A. coming around from the front.

"Everybody secure?" Hannibal asked.

"Yeah man, they ain't going nowhere," B.A. answered.

"Fine," Hannibal nodded to the airstrip and said, "Go tell Murdock to forget about the plane, we need him to get that chopper started."

"What for?" B.A. asked suspiciously.

"When we find Jean we're going to have him fly her out of here and take her back to her parents in New York," Hannibal answered, "And I've got a feeling she's somewhere in that house, we're going to go find her."

B.A. looked like he didn't fully trust Hannibal's explanation but he said, "Alright, I'll go get the fool."

"And we'll go get the Saint," Face added.

They returned to the house but found the footprints disappeared once the sand came to an end and instead the ground ahead of them was covered in half dead grass that was too short to determine where anybody stepped on it.

"If anybody _is_ in there," Hannibal said, "They wouldn't have had time to set any traps for us."

They went to the back door and threw it open and busted in with their guns ready, but they saw no one, though Hannibal heard something, and so did Face.

"What's that noise?" he asked.

Hannibal reached over for the light switch and got a jolt through his glove and they heard the overhead lights buzz and crackle as the power surged. From somewhere off in the house, they could hear a muffled scream that coincided with the electricity crackling in the house.

"Oh my God," Face realized.

They ran up the stairs and busted in every door, tore apart every room, there was nothing and nobody to be found, a few minutes later the crackling stopped and the power was back to normal again.

"Where the hell are they?" Face wanted to know.

"Shhh," Hannibal told him, and both men listened and were able to hear somebody talking, but the voices sounded miles away.

"Where is it?" a man's voice asked.

"I don't know," they could hear Jean's weak response.

"WHERE IS IT?" another voice asked.

"I told you already I DON'T KNOW!" Jean answered. They could hear her struggling and she said, "You people never learn! Do you really think if you up the voltage I'll be anymore inclined to tell you something that I don't know anything about than I must be already? I DON'T KNOW what you're talking about and I can't tell you something that I don't know the answer to and no matter _what_ you do, it can't change that!"

"Where are they?" Face asked.

Hannibal looked around the room and got the answer, "It's coming out of the air vent, so there must be a basement to this house and we never saw the way down, come on."

They doubled down the stairs and checked the downstairs for a door that they had missed, but found none. Hannibal checked the walls and found one had a faulty panel in it that opened up and revealed a doorway leading down a narrow set of stairs. He and Face quietly made their way down and couldn't hear anything now; at the foot of the stairs they saw a light from off to the right, so they went that way and saw a room where the door was open, and the view from where the two commandos stood showed only the backs of two men in the room, and between them they saw a third person tied to a metal table. Face and Hannibal rushed the two men and knocked them out and while Hannibal tied them up, Face moved over to the table and he stopped and gasped at what he saw.

The only way they could without doubt identify the person tied spread eagle to the table with four leather restraints was Jean, was by the clothes she wore; her face had been covered with a sort of hooded mask that made both men flash on when prisoners were executed in the gas chamber, the face was covered so those watching the execution wouldn't be able to see the last expressions on the condemned's face as the cyanide choked the life out of them. Face was almost afraid to touch her because he could only guess what had been happening to her, but he put his hand on her chest to make sure she was still breathing. She was breathing but she was not moving, Face could tell it wasn't from fear because she didn't stiffen up under his touch; instead she just remained still, somewhere between limp and petrified, the only way she could prove difficult in this position, she would've made it as hard as she could for them to move her or get any physical response from her.

"Jean," he said, "It's Face and Hannibal, we're going to get you out of here, alright?"

The only response he got was some low muffled sound. He grabbed the hood and pulled it off of her face and both men saw she had been blindfolded with a black scarf and was gagged with a piece of rubber tubing in her mouth. Face took the blindfold off first so she could see them and see her surroundings and as he took the gag out he asked her, "Are you alright?"

She grumbled another response as the tube came out. She looked past Face, over to Hannibal and she smirked sourly and said, "How bout it, Smith? This ring a bell from any of your pictures?"

Hannibal maintained his usual disposition and replied, "I don't do _horror_ movies."

"And there's a difference of course," she said as Face undid the restraints on her arms.

"Of _course_," Hannibal repeated. He went over to the table and asked her, "Are you alright, kid? What did they do to you?"

"Oh not much," she answered as she sat up while Face untied her feet, "There really isn't too much you can do to torture someone in an hour, especially when you start with psychological first."

"What did they do?" Hannibal repeated.

"They were yelling at me, asking me a bunch of questions about stuff I had _no_ idea what they were talking about. And every time I didn't answer or told them I didn't know, they'd do something different. First they tied me up and blindfolded me and pushed me down several times so I got disoriented and couldn't tell where I was. Then they knocked me down and threw buckets of water on me. I kind of figured that they might…you see I kept thinking back to B.A. and he won't get in anything that flies because even after being in the army, he's still scared of flying. And when I first went into the army, I let it 'slip' that I had a lot of problems that I hadn't gotten over yet, like claustrophobia, I told them I was afraid of the water, afraid of this, afraid of that, stuff that they should've known they had no business keeping me in there if any of it was true."

"But it wasn't," Face said.

"Oh no, I said it because I knew sooner or later _somebody_ would try and use it against me, which they just have, but I don't remember seeing these guys from anywhere before, and I certainly have _no_ idea what they were babbling about."

"It's no surprise," Hannibal told her, "If they worked under Carter's orders, he specialized on that, he would come up with the craziest accusations he could and torture people until they admitted to them, it gave him an excuse to torture them."

"Well anyway," Jean continued, "After a while I guess they realized that wasn't going to work, so they tried electroshock to get me to talk instead."

"We knew about that one," Hannibal told her, "How bad was it?"

"Ohhh, not too bad," she said, "You're old enough to remember those penny arcade games where you grabbed onto two knobs and tried to see how long you could hold on while getting shocked? It was about like that."

Hannibal knew she was downplaying it for their benefit, they had been able to hear her screaming clear through the house; but he wasn't going to push the issue now, she seemed alright, she could move and talk normally and there wasn't blood coming out of her mouth or her ear or anything, and he didn't see any burn marks on her skin. For the time being he figured she was in good enough shape that they could move her out, and then when she was back in Rotgut he would recommend she see a doctor, all things considered.

"Well kid," Hannibal told her, "If you think you can endure five hours in an enclosed space with a crazy person," he saw the small smirk on her face at the mention of Murdock, and he smiled in return knowing the nightmare was finally over, "We've got Murdock outside with a ready chopper and he's going to airmail you back to your parents. He's going to take you home."

"Home," she said as if it was a foreign word, "That's got a nice ring to it. Maybe once I get there, I won't want to leave again, I think I've done enough traveling to last me the rest of my life."

"Come on, kid," Hannibal said as he took her hand, "We'll walk you out."

Face took out his walkie talkie and told the others, "Alright guys, we've got her, have Murdock get the chopper started."

Outside B.A. and Murdock had been waiting by the plane, and B.A. turned to Murdock and said, "You heard him fool, get it going."

"Right!" Murdock ran over to the Huey and hopped into the cockpit.

As Face, Hannibal and Jean came out the back door of the house, they saw the blades start spinning on the chopper, and they saw Murdock jump out and come over to them.

"This has certainly been _quite_ an experience," Jean told Hannibal as they walked out to the airstrip, "And now that it's over, I hope Jean and the others can rest in peace."

"I'm sure they will," Hannibal assured her, "I don't believe Heaven gets crowded but I think they'll be pleased to know they're not getting anymore roommates."

"Hannibal, what about Lynch?" Face asked.

"I already called him and gave him the anonymous tip about what's been going on out here, and he and the whole militia should be arriving within the hour."

"Great, then we can get out of here," B.A. said.

Jean turned around on her heel while she walked to say something to Hannibal, but the words never came.

The two shots that rang out were as loud as a bomb exploding.

They heard Jean's moan as she fell back and her body fell to the ground. The front of her shirt was already covered in blood.

Hannibal spun around and saw Carter standing a few feet behind them, armed with a rifle that was still smoking.

"You…son…of a bitch!" Hannibal said as he drew the gun out of his pocket.

Carter fired once again but missed Hannibal, but the single round that Hannibal let off did not miss its target and shot Carter in the forehead and killed him instantly, his lifeless body slumped over and hit the ground.

Hannibal felt like he had left his own body and was watching somebody else, like he was watching a movie and somebody had slowed down the reel, everything seemed to be at a standstill. He shook it off and turned back and saw Face, Murdock and B.A. were all on the ground hovered around Jean, trying to save her. Her blood was on their hands, all over her shirt, and on the ground beneath her. Hannibal knelt down beside the others to see for himself how bad it was. Jean's face had become pale as a ghost and she wasn't moving; her eyes looked straight up and saw nothing, she had four commandos screaming at her and she said nothing, gave no indication that she heard anything.

"Come on kid, don't do this now," Hannibal told her, the panic starting to build in him, trying to get some small movement of acknowledgement from her, but he was getting none, "Jean, look at me, can you hear me? Jean…JEAN!"


	20. Chapter 20

Jean had been shot twice in the chest, the caliber was large but there were no exit wounds through her back, meaning the bullets were still in her. She had started trying to talk but she kept her gaze up, trying not to see what was happening to her; Hannibal could tell she was forcing herself to remain calm to keep the blood from pumping any faster than it already was.

The four men had had plenty of experience in situations like this over the years, the problem was with the memories of what had to be done, also came the memories of how many times a soldier in their unit had died before they could reach a field hospital. Earlier in the day, Face had cleaned out all the bandages and gauze from the first aid kit and carried them in his pockets incase something happened and they couldn't reach the van, they covered the holes with all the gauze pads they had and knew it wouldn't last for long. The only noise that could possibly be heard over the pandemonium was the whirring roar of the helicopter's rotary blades as they continued to spin around.

"I can get us to the hospital in ten minutes!" Murdock told the others, and ran to get the doors open.

"That's great because that's about all the time we've got!" Hannibal replied. Once it was all over he would have plenty of chances to kick himself for actually saying it but at the time he had no forethought of censoring himself for anybody's benefit.

There was nothing to use for a stretcher so they carefully lifted her up and carried her over to the chopper and got in and they took to the sky before Face could even get the door closed.

Jean almost became hysterical when they tried lying her down so they got her settled sitting up, leaning against B.A., who kept her still and both he and Hannibal tried to keep her calm and awake, while Face got on the radio to try and contact the hospital so they would be ready as soon as the chopper landed.

Hannibal was knelt down in front of Jean and he could see the blood had already soaked through the gauze, so he took off his jacket and pressed it against her chest to try and control the bleeding. His own breathing was ragged as he told her, "Alright, Miss Rhodes, just try and stay calm, keep your legs down…just keep breathing, and we'll be at the hospital soon."

Jean closed her eyes and laughed weakly through a closed mouth. She looked at Hannibal and said, "Mr. Smith, you see before you a coward. When I was on top and it was everybody else getting killed, I didn't have a fear in the world…and now _I'm_ dying, and I'm terrified, because I know what awaits me."

Hannibal gently put his hand on her shoulder and gripped it and told her, "You're going to be alright, Murdock's going to get us to the hospital very soon."

"No, I don't think so," she shook her head, "I think my time has finally come. A fitting end for such a pathetic life I suppose." Her own breathing was becoming ragged and she said, "I'm hot…" she started to move her feet, "Take my boots off, get them off."

"I'll get them," Hannibal said, trying to keep her calm and make sure she didn't move much. He grabbed the boots and they practically came right off in his hands, he pulled them off her feet and saw something fell out of them. He felt his bottom jaw drop, lying strewn out on the floor of the chopper was a pile of money. Hannibal grabbed the top note and saw it was a $500 bill, and he looked at Jean.

She shook her head, "I didn't get rid of all that money like I told you, Smith," she told him, "You _can't_ get rid of all the money those people make in the dope business, it's impossible, they make too much to ever spend it all."

And she had kept it in her boots where nobody would look; the boots that were a size too large and that had added three inches to her height, now the men knew _why_ they had. Jean nodded down towards the money and told Hannibal, "There's about $25,000 there, consider that your services paid in full, and tell my mother I love her." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against B.A.'s chest.

Hannibal reached over and gently stroked her cheek, watching her to make sure she was still breathing. She opened her eyes again and tried to look behind her as she said weakly, "B.A….B.A."

"I'm right here, mama," he told her.

"B.A., I want you to do me a favor," Jean told him.

"Anything you say, mama, what is it?" he asked.

"I want you to stay with me until I die," she answered, "When I die, I will make that journey alone, that will be bad enough, but I don't want to be alone until that time comes. I can promise you won't have to do it for long, I'm not going to make it."

Hannibal saw the look on B.A.'s face and knew the bigger man felt the same way he did; they both hoped to God, against all hope, that she was going to make it, and they had to try and convince her she was, because that was all too often the ultimate deciding factor, if the victim themself believed they would survive. They had been through war long enough to see plenty of amazing things, both good and bad, and they had seen time and again just how long someone could last with nothing to go on other than sheer force of will. Many soldiers that should've been laid down in their graves had managed to stay fighting on their feet and live to see another day. But they also knew that there wasn't anything they could say that would make her believe she would survive if she didn't already.

"Don't worry, mama," B.A. told her, "I'll be right there with you the whole way. I'll be there when you wake up."

"I appreciate your sentiment but I know it's not necessary," Jean replied.

Hannibal could see the tears in her eyes and could tell she felt the moment was very close at hand. He couldn't tell if he was crying as well or not, but he felt like somebody had stuck their hand into his chest and ripped his heart out to stomp it to death. How the hell had this gone on so long, she lasted so long, and now it might all be over, _this_ close to getting her home?

Jean looked to the front and saw Hannibal but didn't really look at him as she quoted, "Fate chained me to evil, for that I must pay the penalty." Then she closed her eyes.

Hannibal reached over and put his hands on her arms to get her attention and said, "No kid, don't close your eyes." She wasn't listening so he took a firmer approach and yelled at her, "Dammit kid I don't care if you _didn't_ complete training, I said open your eyes and that is an order, Corporal!"

The spontaneity of that command took everybody by surprise, including Jean who did open her eyes, if only part way, and looked at Hannibal and said, "Corporal?" and laughed weakly and said, "You got the wrong guy, Smith, I never belonged in the army, I've proven that."

"Maybe you don't," Hannibal told her, "But you would've done well there, you've served your country well."

"And they will never know it," she replied.

"So you're just like us," he pointed out, and she didn't know how to respond to that one.

"We're here!" Murdock told them.

"Thank God," Hannibal could hardly hear the words but he knew that he'd actually given voice to them.

As when they'd loaded her in, they carefully lifted her up and carried her out of the chopper and onto a waiting gurney where paramedics were ready to wheel her into the hospital. B.A. followed with them and stayed to the side of the gurney and directly in Jean's line of vision so she could see him as she was taken inside. Hannibal, Face and Murdock followed behind them and watched as Jean was wheeled off to the OR, with B.A. at her side the entire time. Once they disappeared beyond a set of swinging doors, the three men who remained felt all energy drain out of them and were ready to drop.

Hannibal slowly came back around and he turned to speak to Murdock but saw the pilot heading back for the doors. "Murdock, where're you going?"

Murdock stopped only to look back at the colonel and the lieutenant and told them, "I'm going to take the chopper and pick up her parents and bring them _here_."

Hannibal nodded, "That's a good idea, but be careful!"

Murdock was out the door and gone. Hannibal and Face both felt their bodies shaking and needed to sit down. Hannibal went over to the front desk and got a form to fill out for Jean and they sat down on a bench in the waiting room, and then they went through the most excruciating ordeal in the history of torture, waiting.

One hour dragged by and slowly became two hours, three, four, nobody came out to talk to them, they never heard anything; they stayed where they were as 50 different people came in and out and took their turns waiting before the doctors were ready for them. Outside Hannibal could see it was starting to get dark and it would be night soon. He turned and saw Face had drawn his knees up to his chest, had his face buried in his hands and was nervously rocking back and forth on his end of the bench. Hannibal could hear him mumbling something to himself that sounded like some kind of chant, but Hannibal realized that Face was praying.

"You think the call gets answered after the 500th ring?" Hannibal asked. Face stiffened and slowly looked over at the colonel, who simply said, "There's no sense in both of us losing sleep, why don't you try and rest for a while and I'll wake you up when somebody comes?"

Face was too exhausted to argue, he just slightly nodded his head and tried to get comfortable on his side of the bench, but Hannibal helped him and pulled him over so he was laying against the colonel, a slightly more natural position to fall asleep in than sitting up crooked.

"What if she dies, Hannibal?" Face asked, "Or what if she's already dead and they're just trying to figure out how to tell us? How long's she been in there already?"

"She was shot in the chest, Face, and the bullets didn't come out, it's going to take them a while to get them out and get her stitched up," Hannibal tried to sound reassuring, "You forget it takes a little longer in an actual hospital instead of just using a pair of tweezers and a rag to bite on."

"It's already been so long," Face replied tiredly.

"You know how hospitals do, they can't be rushed for anything, they have to go over every little detail so they don't get sued for malpractice," Hannibal said, "Another thing to consider is they have to operate with B.A. in the room standing three feet away from them, that's _definitely_ going to make them slow down and make sure every little thing's perfect."

Face nodded but Hannibal could see his eyes were closed, and knew he would be asleep before much longer. He was thankful when the kid finally conked out, now he could do all the worrying himself. He preferred it that way.

* * *

><p>With one hand Hannibal stroked over the hair on Face's head as the lieutenant slept against him, and with his other hand he consulted his watch which told him it was now nearly eight hours since Jean had been taken into surgery, and still there hadn't been a single word from anybody about how she was doing, if she was going to make it through the procedure. Even Hannibal had to wonder what the hell could be taking them so long in the operating room? He about hit the ceiling when he heard somebody moaning, then realized that it was Face who was starting to wake up.<p>

"How're you feeling, kid?" he asked.

It took Face a minute to remember where they were and he looked at Hannibal and asked, "They haven't brought her out yet?"

Hannibal shrugged.

"Colonel!"

Both men about flew off the bench at Murdock's voice, they saw him coming through the entrance with the Rhodes' behind him, and both of them looked like they'd just been through hell.

"I think I just broke the flying speed record," Murdock said breathlessly as he doubled over and sat down on the bench before he fell down.

"Where is she?" Mrs. Rhodes asked, "Where's our daughter?"

"Is she alright?" Mr. Rhodes asked.

Hannibal hated doing this, he knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rhodes, your daughter is in surgery at the moment," Hannibal told them.

"Surgery, for what?" Mr. Rhodes asked.

"Well…"

Anything Hannibal was about to say got drowned out by Mrs. Rhodes screaming, the men turned around to see what was wrong and they saw B.A. coming into the room dressed in scrubs and a mask, which he was in the process of pulling off.

"It's okay, she made it," he told them, and upon seeing the parents he assured them, "Your daughter's going to be alright."

"Can we see her?" Mrs. Rhodes asked, the desperation in her voice painfully obvious.

"They're taking her up to a private room in the intensive care unit right now," B.A. explained, "But we'll be able to go up there soon and you can see her then."

"Oh thank God," Mrs. Rhodes fell against her husband hysterically.

"What's happened to her, somebody tell me that," Mr. Rhodes demanded.

"We will, but we can't here," Hannibal said, "Come on, we'll find out where they're putting her."

He stepped aside from the others for a moment and asked B.A., "What took so long in there?"

B.A. told Hannibal, "She woke up halfway through the operation, they had to put her under again, and she didn't go back under right away. She also lost so much blood they had to give her two transfusions, the first one practically ran back out." He conveniently left out the part where the surgery actually ended almost an hour ago, but he asked every question imaginable pertaining to the procedure done and regarding how Jean looked after the operation, making sure that nothing right offhand had gone wrong or had been overlooked, and also asked about what they had to look out for now.

One of the doctors had stressed the fact that it was a busy hospital and they needed to clear the operating room for the next patient. B.A. grabbed that doctor by his scrub and his neck and told him, "Look here, Jack, this hospital got 20 operating rooms, and until she leaves this one, she's still your patient and your first priority. You ain't rushing her out of here too soon to clear way for the next one, you gonna make sure ain't nothing wrong with her that you missed before you take her out of here. Cuz if anything happens to her while she' here, I'm gonna rip the M.D. off your name and feed 'em to you, ya got me?"

He also made it clear that nobody on the staff at the hospital was to alert the police about this patient and told them that it was a matter being investigated by the army so the whole matter had to have a tight lid put on it immediately. After he got through explaining, he really didn't think anybody would be stupid enough to try bringing the cops into it.

The A-Team and the Rhodes' were shown to the room where Jean was placed for the night and until further notice. They all felt bad for her parents, especially the mother, who looked like she had aged 20 more years since they last saw her; she had kept herself pulled together on the way up but the closer they came to the hospital room, they could tell she wasn't going to make it. She started to shake with every step that she took and her husband had to hold onto her to support her or else she might've collapsed on the floor.

When she saw her daughter, she screamed. The commandos had had some idea of what to expect, but it hit the Rhodes' like a ton of bricks. They hadn't seen their daughter for six months, they hadn't seen how she had changed. Maybe the shock wouldn't have been so great if they'd been able to see her before, and see first how she had become leaner, almost gaunt compared to that first picture the team had seen of her, and how she'd gained a little color from those days at the hotel pool out in the sun, and how her hair was shorter and darker; if they seen how overall her appearance had changed to a harder looking version of herself before she was shot, it could've made it easier to see her now. But some shock still remained, even for the team, because now she was pale as a sheet, dressed in a hospital gown, and surrounded by machines that she was hooked up to through wires and tubes.

"What happened to her?" Mrs. Rhodes asked before she broke down crying.

Hannibal had wracked his brain trying to figure out how exactly he was going to explain it, and he decided they deserved the truth, just not necessarily the whole truth.

"What happened is your daughter is a hero," he said, and explained, "While in training, she had found out about a trafficking ring that was occurring within the army and she went AWOL to try and find out who was involved."

"And that Brutus was involved, wasn't he?" Mr. Rhodes asked.

"Yes," Hannibal said, "He was a member of the army who had gone rogue and killed off several of the new recruits because they got in the way of his business. And your daughter tracked him for months, gathering evidence against him that would ensure he never saw the light of day again. When we found her, she was just about to blow the whistle on him, but he found out about us and her, and he kidnapped her to make her talk."

Mrs. Rhodes was just about hysterical, "Did he…did he…?"

"No," Hannibal shook his head, "He didn't hurt her, he tried subjecting her to methods of psychological torture instead, that's become a very big thing in recent years." Both of the parents looked sickened by that news, but Hannibal assured them, "It didn't work, she was very resilient and came out of the matter unharmed. She managed to get away and came back to us, and Brutus followed her and there was a fight. She saw him aiming at me, and she pushed me out of the way and took the hit herself."

"Where is he now?" Mr. Rhodes asked, the murder clear in his eyes, the venom in his voice loud and clear.

"Dead," Hannibal answered, "The army found out what was going on and tried to intercept the damage; one of the MPs shot Brutus and killed him, he won't harm anyone ever again, I can promise you that."

Mrs. Rhodes got away from her husband and leaned against the railing on the hospital bed for support as she looked down at her daughter and cried. She reached her hand out to touch her daughter and asked, "Why is she so pale?"

"She lost a lot of blood, mama," B.A. told her, "But don't worry, they gave her a transfusion and pumped her full of new, it's just going to take a while to fill in her color again."

"She looks so different," Mrs. Rhodes said.

Hannibal looked at the young woman in the bed and he saw what the mother saw; he remembered the picture of Jean from a year ago, young, carefree, and now he could see that her parents weren't the only ones aged by this horrible experience. In six months Jean too had aged rapidly and she wore it now on her face, even when she woke up that haunted look would be there, and would most likely never go away. They had all been put through hell, and just because the nightmare was over didn't mean the memories would be for any of them. That's the way it always was with war, even when it was over, you came back and you wore what you had been through

"I want you to know," he told her parents, "When we found her, one of the first things she said was how terrible she felt that she was never able to contact you and let you know where she was. But she knew that if Brutus found out he was being followed, and found out who she was, it could come back to you and she wanted you two kept out of danger. You two obviously did very well raising her, she's a very brave, selfless person, she _would_ have done well in the army because she firmly believes in everything it stands for: loyalty, duty, honor and integrity, that's what she was fighting for out there."

Mr. Rhodes looked like he didn't know whether to be proud or sick, and Mrs. Rhodes just about collapsed over the bed railing as she absentmindedly stroked through Jean's hair and cried, "Oh God, my baby."

Murdock went over to the bed and pulled Mrs. Rhodes away and had her lean on him instead, figuring putting a little distance between the mother and daughter might be a good idea.

"Does she have to be hooked up to all those things?" she asked.

"It's all routine," Face told Mrs. Rhodes and pointed, "They've got her on oxygen now, when she wakes up and they know she can breathe on her own, they'll take her off of that, and this is a morphine drip, that's always a must."

"Which reminds me," Hannibal told the couple, "We better warn you, she may not wake up for a while, and even when she does, she might not know who you are. You see after they bring her out of surgery, first it's a matter of waiting for the anesthesia to wear off, and when that does, then it's the morphine for the pain. When she _does_ wake up the first time she's going to be so hopped up on morphine that she won't even know where she is or what's going on. And she may not for the first _few_ times that she wakes up, eventually she's going to come down off of it and then you'll be able to talk to her. But it's going to take a while."

"In the meantime there're going to be doctors and nurses coming in and out of here all night, trying to wake her up," Murdock told Mrs. Rhodes.

"Well," Mrs. Rhodes tried to pull herself together, "We're going to be here with her."

Hannibal shook his head, "That might not be a good idea. There's a good chance that the army's going to come in here trying to see her and ask her questions, and it'll really be better if you're not around for them to ask questions. Trust me, I was in the army, I know how these guys work, it won't matter that you don't know anything, they'll still try and get some answers out of you. I think it would be better if you two got a room for the night at a hotel nearby, and one of us will be here with your daughter all night, and as soon as anything happens, we'll come get you."

He could tell that this idea didn't set well with them but he knew the odds were good the MPs would find out what had happened and come snooping around. There was always a chance they would find out about somebody else getting shot at the house and being airlifted from the sight, and check every hospital in the area. Now, Hannibal wasn't worried that they would recognize Jean; the first time Lynch saw her, she was in the dark with Murdock's cap pulled down low, the second time she encountered him, he never saw her because he was blinded by a piece of cake, and the third time she had stayed behind him where he could never see her. That wasn't what bothered him, but he didn't like the idea of anybody coming into this room in the night and trying anything; he had a good imagination and could see anybody coming in here with malicious intentions ranging from the MPs to maybe some other member of the ring that had managed to survive or escape. Paranoia was ringing high tonight but until they knew she was out of the woods, he didn't believe in taking any chances, and he didn't want to take any risks with her parents here either.

Mrs. Rhodes was inconsolable and B.A. relieved Murdock since he had a bigger shoulder that could endure more abuse.

"How long did you know she was alive?" Mr. Rhodes asked them.

"For quite a while, the problem was being able to get close enough to her that she knew what was going on _and_ so she wouldn't be in any danger from our appearance," Hannibal answered, "You might say she was in a very delicate position for a long time."

"How long is she going to have to be here?" Mrs. Rhodes asked.

"A while," B.A. told her, "But don't worry, she'll be able to get out of here soon enough. Then you'll be able to take her back home with you."

"Murdock," Hannibal said, "It's getting late, why don't you go with the Rhodes' and help them find a place nearby to stay for the night?"

"Okay, Colonel," Murdock agreed, and went to pull Jean's mother off of B.A. But she wouldn't leave yet, instead she went back over to the bed and ran her hand through Jean's hair and told her daughter, "We'll see you in the morning, baby, okay?" Her husband came and pulled her away and they went with Murdock out the door.

"Oh Mr. Rhodes, before you leave," Hannibal said.

The man stopped in the doorway and looked to the colonel, and he said, "Thank you for finding our daughter and bringing her back to us. You don't know how relieved we are that this whole nightmare is finally over."

"Well that's what we were hired for," Hannibal reached into his pocket and took out the money they'd been paid in the beginning and handed it back to the father and said, "But this one's on us."

Mr. Rhodes looked at the money in his hand and looked at Hannibal and said, "I don't get it."

"Well you might say your daughter and I had a little understanding," Hannibal explained.

Once Murdock had the parents out of the room, Hannibal closed the door behind them and he said, "Alright, B.A., how bad was the damage?"

"Well it wasn't good, Hannibal," B.A. told him, "The ammo he was using when he shot her was .50 caliber, both of them just missed the heart, she's lucky to be alive."

"That explains why it took so long," Hannibal said.

"Yeah, that and I made sure the doctors don't go reporting this mess to the police," B.A. said, and reached into a pocket on his vest and took out a plastic bag with the two bullets in it, "See?"

Face tried to be casual about it, "Well, some people collect fuzzy dice."

"That's nice, B.A., how'd you manage that one?" Hannibal asked.

"I told them the army was investigating the shooting, and though they already know who did it and with what, they still need these for evidence."

"Smart move."

"And now comes the fun part," Face dryly commented, "The recovery."

"And we have to decide who's going to be staying with her tonight," Hannibal added.

"I will," B.A. said, "I told her I'd be here when she wakes up."

"B.A. you know when she does she's not going to know who any of us is," Face reminded him, "She'll be too doped up on the morphine to even know who _she_ is."

"I know," B.A. told him, "But I promised her, and I don't break my word, only suckers' heads."

"Point taken," Face said.

"We'll be close by if you need us," Hannibal said as he and Face headed out the door.

And he doubted very much that he would. Once they had gone, he made sure the door was closed and went back over to the bed. Of course Jean hadn't moved a muscle, it would probably be tomorrow before she could do even that. And he could just imagine the fun when she was healed enough she could start getting up and moving around again, how her body was going to have to readjust to moving this way and that after having two holes blown through it; that was a feeling he had only too much experience with over the years.

"Hey mama," he said, watching to see if there was any indication she could hear him. None, she was still high up in morphine heaven. "Guess after this you ain't gonna have any use for them pills after all," he commented.

B.A. looked back to the door and made sure nobody was coming in, and he looked back at the unconscious woman on the bed; and he reached into the side pocket on his vest and pulled out the teddy bear her mother had given him back at the house. Taking great care to be gentle, he lifted her arm slowly and slipped the teddy bear into the crook of her arm and laid it back down and replaced the blankets over her. He'd been carrying that bear around in his pocket since this whole mess started, and he was glad to finally be rid of it and get it back to its rightful owner. He pulled up a chair and sat down by the bed and watched Jean while she slept, knowing it was a long night ahead and she'd probably never wake up during it, but he was going to be right here watching her incase she would.

* * *

><p>Jean woke up around 2 o' clock in the morning. B.A. had been starting to nod off himself when he opened his eyes again and saw Jean's eyes were also open, and looking up at something, possibly the ceiling. Of course he knew Hannibal and Face were right, she was so doped up that if she was aware of anything she'd be on cloud 9 and have no idea what was going on around her.<p>

"Hey mama," he said as he rested his hand on the top of her head, "How' you feeling?"

She surprised him by answering, "It's dark in here."

He did a double take, but maybe it made sense, they couldn't keep her out long enough during the surgery and maybe the morphine wasn't strong enough for her either. She was strangely coherent, she just couldn't focus too well on what was being said to her.

"It's late," he told her, "Everybody's asleep."

"I'm not," she answered.

He laughed and said, "I know you ain't, but everyone else is."

"What everyone else?" She was trying to sit up to look for the others. B.A. pressed down on her shoulder and made her lie still, she might've been numbed for the moment but when she woke up the next day she would pay for trying to move so soon after the kind of surgery she had.

"Hannibal and Faceman and the crazy fool, they're outside trying to sleep," B.A. told her.

Jean's eyes moved and looked around the room and she said, "Billy's here."

"Yeah I know." He could let it slide for once, this time he knew it was the morphine talking.

He saw she was starting to fall asleep again and he let her. He was sure that by tomorrow she'd be up and talking to everybody.

* * *

><p>Jean stayed asleep for the rest of the night and all of next morning. She was still asleep when her parents came back to the hospital to see her and she remained asleep clear into the afternoon. Her poor mother, who managed to keep herself pulled together today, watched her every minute and when Jean wouldn't wake up she became nervous and said, "I don't understand what's wrong, why doesn't she wake up?"<p>

"Well it's possible that since she already woke up once," Face said, "That she's been able to figure out what's happened and she kind of collapsed from the relief of knowing it's over. It does happen."

"Another possibility is since her life had become so chaotic and she seemed to run it on an exact routine to make sure she was always two steps ahead of Brutus," Hannibal added, "That this is the first time since she joined the army that she's actually been able to rest. The kind of life she was living, it does take a toll on a person."

Mrs. Rhodes leaned over the bed and stroked Jean's hair and tried talking to her, "Baby, can you hear me?"

They heard a low groan escape from her lips as she moved, she tried turning onto her side and realized she couldn't and returned to lying straight as she was.

"Well, it's a start anyway," Face said.

He and Murdock went over to the bed to take a look as well, and both about jumped back when they saw Jean's eyes start to open. They opened like a doll's eyes, only halfway at first, then closing again, and then fully opening, and she saw the ceiling first, then saw the two men standing beside her, "Murdock! Face!" and by some force she managed to raise the top half of her body up and wrap her arms around the two men before the pain kicked in.

"Whoa!" Face told her, in the same second that Jean started moaning in pain, and he and Murdock were careful to lay her back down as he told her, "You're not quite healed yet."

"You guys are here," she said in amazement, and she looked past them to the big man standing behind them and said, "B.A., you stayed here?"

"I said I would," he told her.

What that meant suddenly hit her, "Then I'm alive?"

"I'll say," Face told her.

Jean's eyes traveled past B.A. and saw Hannibal, "You're here too?"

"And if you're up for another surprise," Hannibal said and pointed, "We've got a couple other people here to see you."

Jean turned and saw the two people coming over to her and her eyes lit up, "MOM! Dad!"

Her parents loosely wrapped their arms around her and hugged her and were both talking to her at once, their words jumbled but the sentiment clear.

"How're you feeling, baby?" her mother asked her.

"Sore," she answered, and then coughed, "I'm thirsty, where's the water?"

"Sorry kid," Hannibal told her, "No water right after surgery, you're only allowed ice for the time being."

"Ice?" she repeated, her tongue thick against her sandpaper mouth, "Fine…Murdock."

"Yeah?"

"Go get a big bag of ice, put it in a bowl and leave it on the radiator for half an hour, then bring it here," she told him, "When can I get out of here?"

"It'll be a while," Hannibal told her.

"I thought hospitals only kept gunshot patients for a few days," Jean said.

"Ordinarily they might, but they pulled two bullets this big," he held his thumb and index finger two inches apart to show her, "Out of you and that's going to take a little longer than usual to heal up."

"Hmmm," Jean laid her head back against the pillows and they thought she might go back to sleep, but she opened her eyes again and said, "Murdock, why did you bring Billy in here? You know the hospital doesn't allow pets."

Mrs. Rhodes looked at her daughter and turned to the men, bright eyed and clearly worried. Face took it upon himself to take her aside and explain to her, "It's a bit of a private joke between us on the team, she's alright."

"Oh," she let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding in.

Hannibal got the feeling that they were starting to overstay their welcome, so he turned to B.A. and said to him, "While we're here, why don't you pay your mother a visit and see how she's doing?"

"Yeah," B.A. agreed, "That'd be a good idea, I ain't seen my mama in a while."

"What, are we coming too?" Face asked as Hannibal grabbed him by the arm and started to the door.

"Jean," Hannibal called over his shoulder, "We'll be back later to see how you're doing, we'll leave you and your parents alone for the time being to, talk amongst yourselves."

"That's fine with me," Jean said, and by the way she slurred her words, he guessed that the morphine drip was working its narcotic magic again.

They were just about out the door when they heard Jean call them, and they went back in and Hannibal asked her, "What is it?"

"B.A.," Jean tried to move to get a better look at him, but instead he went over to the bed so he was next to her.

"What is it, mama?" he asked her.

"B.A.," she said tiredly, "I just want you to know that I'm very proud of you."

He looked at her like she was the crazy one, "What're you talking about?"

"I mean how you flew in the helicopter," Jean told him, "And you weren't afraid at all."

B.A. turned to the others and asked Hannibal, "What's she talking about?"

Hannibal shrugged and it was obvious he was as clueless as B.A. was.

"Don't you remember, B.A.?" Jean asked, "When I got shot Murdock said he could fly us to the hospital, and we all got in the chopper and you spent the whole time making sure I didn't fall asleep?"

B.A. looked from her, to Hannibal and to Face and Murdock, and he asked them, "We _flew_?"

Hannibal, Face and Murdock all looked at each other in equal puzzlement. It hadn't occurred to any of them at the time either, but yes, it was obviously true; B.A. Baracus, who would rather die than fly in anything, _especially_ with Murdock as the pilot, had completely forgotten about the fact that they _were_ flying, that _Murdock_ had been flying them in a helicopter.

"We flew!" he repeated as it started to hit him what had happened, "We was in a chopper, and I flew?" He pointed to Murdock and said, "This crazy fool was flying the chopper, and I was in it? I flew in a chopper? I…" his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out and hit the floor, causing the whole room to shake. Jean sat back against the pillows on the bed and laughed.


	21. Chapter 21

"Billy, now you be a good boy and come out from under there," Murdock said as he got on his knees and looked under the other hospital bed in Jean's room, "Now don't you argue with me...you stop being so difficult." He started to crawl under the bed until the only thing that could be seen were his shoes as he appeared to be dragged under the bed. There was some indecipherable talk as he continued to argue with his dog, then he crawled out from under the bed as if he was expecting Billy to follow behind him. When he realized he was alone, he turned around on his hands and knees and started yelling under the bed again. He nodded his head vigorously as if he was responding to the dog shaking his head no, "Yes, you come out of there _right now_," he pointed to the floor in front of him. "Now come on, boy."

Face stood by Jean's bed and they both watched as Murdock tried to get his dog out from under the bed. They had come in that evening to relieve the Rhodes' so they could go down to the cafeteria and get some dinner; the report they'd gotten from the parents was that Jean had fallen back asleep shortly after the team left and she had been out for most of the afternoon. From that they gathered either she would remain asleep for most of the night, or she would be wide awake when everybody else in the hospital was trying to sleep. She had been awake when they went in and stayed that way so far.

"That's a good boy," Murdock said as he picked the dog up in his arms and stood up, "Face, will you take Billy outside and put him in the van for me?"

"Uh, sure, Murdock," Face said as he awkwardly tried to grab Billy and take him from Murdock, but trying to get a hold of something he couldn't see proved difficult, and he knew, looked ridiculous.

"Don't do that!" Jean told him, "You're hurting him."

Face would've loved to know just _how_ she could tell what he was doing wrong, and he also would've loved to know when she started caring if he was hurting Billy or not since by her own admission she hated dogs. But he kept quiet and tried to readjust his hold and carry Billy out without anymore complaints, and he told Murdock, "I'll be back in a minute," and headed out the door.

Hannibal and B.A. came out of the bathroom and Hannibal said to Jean, "Well everything looks normal in there, I don't think anybody's had a chance to come in and bug the place. And if Lynch hasn't come here yet, it could be a safe bet that he's not going to."

"Or he still got his hands full with the fools back there," B.A. replied.

"How's your head, B.A.?" Jean asked him.

"It's alright," he answered. It hadn't come to anybody's surprise that he'd managed to hit his head against the hard tiled floor without so much as a bump or even a scratch.

Jean smirked and said, "They're never going to get that dent out of the floor from when you fainted."

"Hannibal, whatever happened to the recruits that were being brought in for the plane yesterday?" Murdock asked, "What happened to them?"

"Oh you didn't hear, Murdock?" Hannibal asked, "After the MPs made it out to Carter's headquarters, they were able to intercept a semi being brought in, opened up the back and found the recruits inside."

"Really?"

"Yeah, 70 men who barely even look old enough to drive, half dead from the heat and poor ventilation, and all of them carrying drugs and guns and ammo to take over to the drug lords overseas, needless to say the army's psychiatrists are going to have their hands full for a while." Hannibal looked at Jean and told her, "You were right, the retraining program had already started with them, but they're expected to quickly recover and should be able to remember who and what they are soon."

"At least they found some of them before it was too late," Jean said, "What about Burgess though? Did you find out what the deal with him was?"

"Well as it turns out, Burgess wasn't working for Lynch, he was working for Carter, Carter got suspicious and thought that we might be onto him and he sent Burgess out to report if he found anything. It was only by some dumb luck that Lynch managed to keep following after us the whole time."

"Go figure," Murdock commented.

"Hey Hannibal," Jean said and gestured for him to lean over towards her, "I get why you changed the details around when you told my parents what happened, but I don't get why you told them I pushed you out of the way and took the bullet for you."

Hannibal took the cigar out of his mouth and said to her as his only means of explanation, "How do you know that Carter wasn't aiming for me and only hit you by mistake?" From the look on her face he could tell she was starting to consider it, though she obviously wasn't convinced of that, and he added, "He couldn't hit me with the third round either, so I don't know that he _wasn't_ trying to shoot me and just hit you instead. The chip on his shoulder with my name on it had been festering like a wart since you were in kindergarten, I truly think if he was going to try and kill one of us, it would be me; we went back the farthest."

"He shot at you, you shot him," Murdock said, "That was the two shots."

"What?"

"The prophecy," Murdock said, "Two shots will ring out, one will stand, one will fall…that's what the spirits said."

Jean looked at Murdock and said, "You mean this whole time that it was always meant for Hannibal to be the one to kill Carter? It was never supposed to be me?"

"I guess not," Murdock replied and he saw the vexed look on the colonel's face and shrugged helplessly.

Hannibal turned to Jean and said in his self-assured tone, "You see, kid? I told you there was a reason why you couldn't get us off the case, no matter what you did."

"If that ain't a kick in the head, I don't know what is," she said as she lay back against the pillows. She looked worn out already and Hannibal could guess how she felt in between having two holes blown into her, mixed with the painkillers _and_ being stuck in bed all day.

"How're you feeling, kid?" Hannibal asked her.

"Lousy," she answered, "They finally let me have something to drink, but not enough of it, and they're still not letting me eat yet."

Hannibal looked at his watch and told her, "They should've done that before now. Are you sure it's not just a matter of you won't eat what they give you?"

Jean glared at him and asked, "When was the last time _you_ ate lime Jell-O?"

"Point taken," he said.

Jean closed her eyes and heard the men talking amongst themselves and then heard them heading for the door; Hannibal went out first, then B.A., and when Murdock was about to follow, she opened her eyes and called him, he closed the door and went over to the bed.

"Is somebody going to be staying here again tonight?" she asked him.

"Yeah, if you want," he said, "We thought it would be a good idea to make sure nobody comes in during the night who ain't supposed to be here."

"But not B.A.," she shook her head.

Murdock shook his head to match hers and said, "Not if you don't want him to."

"I don't," she answered, "I'm thankful he was here last night, but I'd rather you stayed this time if you don't mind."

"Mind?" he said, "Mind!" he repeated it louder, "Me mind? Of course I don't mind, this'll be fun."

Jean weakly laughed and said, "I can't promise I'll be good company."

"That's alright," he told her, "I can be interesting for the both of us. But would you like it if Face stayed too?" Murdock gestured to the other bed, "I know he's slept in better places but I don't think he'd mind if…"

"No," Jean shook her head, "Just…just you, Murdock."

Murdock nodded in understanding. He really _didn't_ understand but if she didn't want anyone else to stay in the room, he could respect that. In any case, he would be there and that would be enough if something happened in the night; he knew the others would be close by just incase anything went wrong.

"Murdock," Jean pointed to the bed railing and asked him, "Is this absolutely necessary?"

"Oh they just put that up so you don't roll out of bed," he said, "I'm sure I can take it off for you, I've had some practice at that, just like getting out of straightjackets and leather restraints..."

"I'll like it when I can get out of here, I don't like this place," Jean told him, "How long do I have to stay here?"

"What did the doctors say?" Murdock asked as he was in the process of lowering the railing.

"Oh who remembers? They're all alike, they like keeping you here as long as possible," she said, "I want to go home."

"Well as soon as they can give you the green arrow on flying, we'll do it," he told her.

"Murdock, isn't it dangerous for you guys to hang around here?" she asked him, "I mean wouldn't it be easy for somebody to tip off Lynch about where you are since you've been here all day?"

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that," Murdock said, "We have an understanding with the doctors, besides, even if they did come, they'd never catch us…or if they only caught me, they'd just send me back to the V.A., that's about all they can _ever_ do with me because I'm insane and 'I don't know nothing', so I'm in no real danger either way you look at it."

Jean watched him while he worked and she asked him, "Do you really like going back there?"

"Well it's hard to turn down free room and board courtesy of the state, that's one upside to being crazy, you always have a place to live," he said as he managed to take one side of the railing off. He sat down on the edge of the bed and swung his legs up so she and he were positioned alike, he reached over and put his hand on her shoulder and asked her, "Does this hurt?"

"No," she shook her head.

He reached over and put his hand on her other shoulder, "This hurt?"

"No," she shook her head again.

He lowered his hand and touched her arm, "How bout that?"

"Uh-uh."

He raised his hand back to her shoulder and carefully pulled her over to lean against him, "That good?"

Jean nodded.

"Fine," he said, and leaned back against the pillows, "So what do you want to do tonight?"

Jean tilted her head back and said, "How bout if we just sit together and…watch the walls melt?"

Murdock looked down at her and laughed.

* * *

><p>Murdock returned to her room later with a change of pajamas for the night and his Bogey bear, whom he insisted get acquainted with her own teddy bear. He picked hers up and played with it like he did with Bogey and asked her, "What's his name?"<p>

"He doesn't have one," Jean said, "At least I never gave him one."

"Oh that's a shame," Murdock clucked his tongue and shook his head, "Going through life without a name. It's terrible how many Teddy Does there are in the world you know."

"Well what kind of name do you think would suit him?" Jean asked.

"Hmmm," Murdock looked the teddy bear over from every angle imaginable and said, "Maybe Humphrey." He held onto her bear with one hand, picked up his bear with the other and said, "Bogey, meet Humphrey, Humphrey, this is Bogey."

"Maybe I should just name him after you," jean suggested with a laugh.

"Me?" Murdock asked, "Are you crazy?"

Jean held up her hand that still had the morphine drip inserted in it, "They're pumping me full of the crazy juice, trying to make me an addict. After those pills, this is a smorgasbord of insanity. I will like it when I can get rid of this too."

"Hmmm," Murdock checked the IV bag to see how much was left in it and he told her, "You'll probably want that for a couple more days."

"Don't they only use these on dying people?" Jean asked.

Murdock shook his head, "Naw, they give them to anybody in extreme pain, and if you didn't have any after being shot in the chest twice, then you're crazier than I am and I don't consider that an easy title to win."

Jean looked at him and asked him, "Murdock, have you ever been shot?"

"Sure I have," he answered.

"Did you almost die?" she asked.

He took his time to answer that one, finally saying, "I don't recall seeing them getting my halo ready, and in a hospital I wouldn't put much faith in seeing the white light either because have you seen how bright those things are they use in the operating room?"

"Well," she told him, "When I got shot, I thought for sure that I was going to die, no offense to your aviation skills, but I just _knew_ we'd never make it in time."

"Well we did," Murdock reminded her, "You're still here," he smiled at her and added, "You can't get away from us that easily, darling, we won't allow it."

She smiled at him weakly and replied, "Thanks, Murdock. I _would've_ died if it wasn't for you."

"Oh I don't know about that," he said, "I think they probably would've stopped you at the pearly gate and sent you back. You know what Hannibal said about Heaven doesn't get crowded, well I think they've got enough Saints there for the time being."

Jean laughed a couple of times but stopped because even on the morphine, the pain managed to cut through her when she did it.

"So tell me about my parents," she said.

"What about them?" Murdock asked.

"About you flying to New York and picking them up and flying them back here," she said.

"Oh that, well," Murdock pointed at her and told her, "Flying _definitely_ runs in your family, your mother's a natural just like you."

"Funny, I never took my mother for being a flyer," she commented, "I don't think she's ever been off the ground."

"Well she took to it like a vulture on a gut wagon," Murdock explained, "They both did, as soon as they heard we found you and I was taking them to you, they jumped into the chopper and off we went."

"You didn't tell them I'd been shot?" Jean asked.

"I told them that we had to go to the hospital, but I didn't tell them why," he said, "I thought it might be better that way because I didn't know what had happened since I left."

"And I know why Hannibal didn't tell them the truth, because they would never want me back if they knew what I really did," Jean said.

"That's not true," Murdock told her.

"He didn't tell them about the people I killed," Jean reminded him, "And I can admit I'm a coward, I don't have it in me to tell them the truth either."

Murdock looked at her sympathetically and took her hand in his and stroked over the top of it with his other hand and told her, "There's an unwritten rule among soldiers, when you go home, you _don't_ talk about what happened in the war, it's just not something that anybody who wasn't there could understand, and that's exactly what happened here."

He felt her hand tighten its grip on his own and that said more to him than anything she could've told him in that instant. He leaned over and kissed her on her forehead and with his free hand stroked over the top of her head. Her eyes rolled back and he could tell the morphine was kicking in and she would be asleep soon again, but she looked up at him and with a small smile on her tired face she said to him, "_You're_ my friend, you're _all_ my friends…"

Murdock smiled at her and said, "I knew we'd bring you around sooner or later."

He went into the bathroom and changed into his pajamas, when he came out, Jean was watching him as he took the pillow and sheet off of the spare bed and instead made his bed on the floor.

"Aren't you going to use the bed?" Jean asked, "It _is_ vacant you know."

"Na that's alright," Murdock told her, "I spend enough time in one of these things anyway, I'll be fine down here."

However, Jean was able to see through that and she confronted him, "Billy came back, didn't he?"

Murdock pushed himself up on his hands so he could see her and he explained, "He won't bother you, I'm going to keep him over here with me tonight."

She seemed to be alright with that and after a little while she fell asleep, and Murdock lay on the floor watching her for a few minutes before he decided it was time for him to go to bed too. But first, he got up and picked up the chair by the bed and went over to the door, he put the chair down and opened the door and called out, "Hannibal, can you come here for a minute?"

Hannibal appeared in the doorway in another one of his disguises, this one as one of the hospital orderlies, "Yeah, Murdock?"

"Colonel, I got the feeling that she don't want any company tonight, so if the door's locked, don't be surprised," Murdock advised him.

Hannibal didn't question him about it though the pilot could tell he wondered momentarily about what was going to happen; and finally he agreed and left the room. Murdock closed the door behind him and stuck the chair's back under the doorknob; there, no pesky late night bed checks from the nosy nurses. Satisfied with that, Murdock went back to his spot on the floor and buried his head under the pillow and cocooned himself up in the sheet and fell asleep alongside Billy.

* * *

><p>Murdock about hit the ceiling as he was jolted awake by the screaming. The room was dark and for a minute he thought he was back at the V.A., but he realized he wasn't, and he also knew that Face wasn't here so the yelling wasn't a result of another one of his nightmares. But then what was it? He sat up and looked around the room and even in the dark he got his answer when he saw the figure sitting up in the hospital bed. Jean. Murdock let out a trapped breath of relief as he realized it was just her having a nightmare. He got up to go over and wake her up but suddenly decided against it when he saw her body contorting around on the bed; she twisted and turned and thrashed and flopped over every which way as her screams got louder and louder. Amidst the screaming he could hear the rattle of the tubes from the machines around her, and he realized that she had jerked around so much and so hard that she had ripped out the morphine drip, and she didn't even realize it. Murdock watched this completely dumbstruck, it was as if The Exorcist was actually coming to life here and now. He half expected for Jean to rise up off the bed and float in the air and for her head to spin clear around.<p>

The screams and wails that escaped from Jean's throat and out her mouth didn't sound like they could possibly belong to anything human; her body flipped around so she was facedown at the foot of the bed, and as she sucked in a ragged gasp of air, Murdock thought that the worst was over. But he realized it was only beginning when, as soon as she had the air in her to scream again, Jean threw her head forward and practically slammed her body against the bed and cried out, "Oh-h-h-h God!" Each word carried on for several syllables and she repeated them several times, then threw her head back and screamed, "Dear God help me!" Another scream tore out of her, so loud and so hard that Murdock would've actually thought it possible for her throat to slit from the inside due to the raw strain.

Through this ordeal, Murdock was nothing short of paralyzed; half of him was screaming that he had to get over to the bed and help Jean somehow, he had to wake her up, but he could not move, the other side of him told him what he already knew, she _was_ awake, and she needed not to be helped by him or anyone else. No intervention by any person would benefit her, this was something that needed to run its course and leave her, so, nerve wracking and heartbreaking as it was to witness, he stayed where he was on the floor and watched what happened next.

Jean sucked in another breath and cried out as she collapsed against the bed, "Oh God forgive me! God help me!" Her body rose up on its knees and her head was thrown back as another scream escaped her, and then she fell facedown on the bed and her whole body shook and convulsed as she sobbed uncontrollably. _Now_ it was safe to get up, Murdock got to his feet and went over to the bed and put his hand on her back to see if she would respond to the touch. Nothing, she was completely oblivious to his presence.

A sense of understanding came over Murdock as he realized just what had happened here. One part of it was redemption coming to a person who sought it, was finally able to seek it. Murdock looked up at the dark ceiling and he knew why this had happened; as long as anybody in the trafficking ring remained alive, Jean had had somebody to direct her neverending feed of murderous hatred and anger at, and the hate in her had overridden any feelings she may have had of remorse for her crimes. Now that the ring members were all dead, there was nowhere left for her to turn to take her bloodlust out on, so it had to be removed from her body like a tumor. He had told her once before that he believed in exorcisms, and that was exactly what had happened here; not with a priest, not with the assistance from anybody on God's earth, but the evil force inside of Jean had been driven out of her all the same.

Brutus had been a manmade persona but he was as real as if he was an actual person. He lived inside of Jean and feasted off of her need for revenge; simultaneously he was often the only thing keeping her going but also sucking the life out of her slowly and painfully, like a vampire. Her raw anger was the only thing that kept him alive; now that Grant and Carter were both dead, the hatred in Jean had become still like dead blood, and the emotional mosquito Brutus had drank it all until he had fatally overdosed himself on it. His very existence within Jean had become like a poison that had to be removed if she were to live and to know any kind of peace, and what had just happened was Brutus leaving Jean's body, never to return, to go off somewhere and quietly die alone. Hannibal had been right when he spoke to Jean's parents that first night, Brutus _was_ dead and he would never harm anyone again. Murdock could almost see him as he was cast out of Jean's body, and disappeared from the room; the form of Brutus was like a half developed body snatcher, the details weren't filled in but the overall shape was plain to see, and he was _as_ plain to see as Billy was as he walked through the door and vanished forever.

Good medicine was often of a bitter variety and the initial taste often made the patient question if it truly was best for them. And Murdock knew the same thing had happened here; what had happened to Jean had wracked her body like she had been given ipecac to remove something poisonous from her system. Only here this hadn't merely been a physical exertion, the bulk of the excruciating agony she had been put through was on emotional and spiritual levels as well, and those were always worst to go through, he'd had his own share of them over the years to know; and he'd known plenty of other men at the V.A. who had also gone through the same terrifying ordeals.

Jean's whole body was covered in sweat and any breath that went in or out of her was choked out by the gut wrenching sobs that were tearing through her. Murdock sat down on the edge of the bed beside her and rubbed his hand around in circles on her back and told her consolingly, though he wasn't sure if she could hear him, "It's alright, sweetheart…everything's going to be alright now." He firmly believed it, and knew that when Jean woke up the next morning, she would know it too. Now that the tick had been removed and stopped sucking the blood, the bite would heal and Jean would feel better soon, he was sure of that.

* * *

><p>Brutus may have been gone but a little mean streak still remained in Jean. Early the next morning she got into a fight with the nurses that came in; first kicking at the one who insisted on giving her a sponge bath, insisting she could do it herself, and grumbling about when she would be able to take a shower again, and then she got into another fight with the nurse that tried to reinsert her morphine drip. Murdock had been with her all morning and Face had dropped in to visit, despite the staff discouraging it, and once the nurses left the room, Face asked Jean, "Do you really think that's such a good idea?"<p>

"I don't see why not," she said, "I'm going to have to get along without the morphine sooner or later, right? If I stop now I stand less chance of getting addicted to it."

Murdock went over to the TV to find the cartoons and Face tried to make Jean comfortable tucking her in the bed since the sheets had been replaced with clean ones.

"Aren't you in any pain?" Face asked as he fluffed up the pillow behind her head.

"A little," Jean answered, "The doctor said it's _safe_ for me to move around but not _comfortable_, but then again there are plenty of times when life itself is uncomfortable, like everything else you deal with it and get through it. And I'm sure the same thing will happen here as well."

"Quite a philosophy," Face commented.

"And," Jean stuck her finger in his face as she added, "I'm not going to waste my time with their stupid physical therapy either. Think about it, did they have physical therapy when people got shot in the old west? Hell no, they just sewed them up, gave them some whiskey, kept them in bed for a few days and then it was back to work."

"Hmmm," Murdock said as he went through the channels, "Have to admit she's got a point there, Facey."

"Did I say anything?" Face replied.

Murdock finally found the cartoons and he stepped back from the TV to watch it, and he turned to Face and told him, "You know, Face, I got to thinking about something. You know they got these great action cartoons on Saturday morning now, and I was thinking, imagine if they'd do a cartoon based on us."

"Us?" Face repeated.

"Yeah, think about it, four cartoon versions of us, and Billy, going on missions every week and saving the farmers and the kidnapped girls and stuff like that, with lots of explosions and machine guns." He pointed his fingers like a gun and supplied the sound effects to help give Face a visual aid.

"Or a live action cartoon," Jean suggested.

Murdock's eyes lit up, "Hey yeah! Now that's a great idea! An hour long show of us every Tuesday night, with real explosions and car chases and airplanes and…"

"Oh come on, Murdock," Face cut him off, "Who would watch a TV show about us?"

"Well…" Murdock thought about it, "On one hand, who wouldn't love an invisible dog?"

"He's got a point there," Jean said.

The door opened and Hannibal and B.A. came into the room and went over to the bed. Hannibal was briefly surprised when he saw Jean; the advancing years that had been put on her by the last six months seemed to have fallen off of her during the night and now she looked more like the picture her parents had shown them at the house.

"Well you're looking better, how're you feeling today, kid?" Hannibal asked her.

"I'm doing fine," Jean said and held her arm up to show Hannibal, "See? They already got me off the morphine."

"That's not the way _we_ heard it," Hannibal told her.

"Well those nurses are liars," Jean replied.

"Hey mama, quit giving them a hard time or they' gonna keep you in here longer," B.A. warned her, and pointed with his thumb to Murdock, "Look at that crazy fool, he ain't gotten them to kick him out yet cuz he can't stop acting crazy."

Murdock stood tall and looked like an annoyed cat at that remark and he insisted, "They all love me at the V.A."

B.A. scoffed and grumbled something under his breath.

Murdock wasn't worried about Jean's ability to leave the hospital though. There had been a mutual understanding between the two of them when Jean woke up that morning. She had remembered the events of last night very well, including his being there, but both had agreed that it also was something that would only remain between the two people who had been there to witness it. But after he saw her flop around on the bed the night before like an acrobat, he had no doubt that she would be up and walking soon and able to leave the hospital of her own free will.

Hannibal told Jean that her parents would be coming in soon to see her and that the rest of them were going to get out of the way, but they would be back later to check on her again. Jean avoided eye contact with him or any of them and she said, "It's about time for you guys to disappear again, isn't it?"

"Not until we get you home," Hannibal told her, "Maybe I'm just getting paranoid in my old age," he added cynically, "but I don't trust putting you and your parents on a commercial flight back to New York. Instead we're going to trust Murdock to get you back."

"Oh boy," Murdock said excitedly, and folded his arms and said in a haughty tone, "Thank you for flying Murdock Airlines."

"Shut up, fool," B.A. warned him.

"You luck out, B.A," Jean said jokingly, "There ain't gonna be room in the chopper for all of us."

But B.A. wasn't laughing and instead he was back to his usual growling self as he glared at Hannibal and the others.

"Come on, B.A.," Hannibal said, "Let's get out of here."

"Alright," B.A. turned back to Jean and told her, "We'll see ya later, mama."

Jean waved as they left the room, and once Hannibal closed the door behind them, he turned to the others and said, "So what do you think? In a few more days she'll probably be able to actually check out of here."

"I don't get it," Face said, "I thought the doctors said she would have to stay longer."

"My guess is it's just sheer determination to get _out_ of the hospital," Hannibal commented, "Some people will go to amazing lengths to get as far away from them as possible."

"Well, I always knew there was something about them that I didn't like," Face noted, "Or the people who work in them."

"Oh they're not always so bad," Murdock told Face, "We had this one doctor at the V.A. who I _really_ liked, I mean we got along _very_ well, he spoke my language."

"Uh-huh," Face replied suspiciously, "And what happened to him?"

"Oh, he got himself checked into one of the rooms there after a while," Murdock answered.

"That figures," B.A. said.

"You know that reminds me, Face," Murdock wrapped his arm around Face's back and rested his hand on his shoulder, definitely getting the other man's attention as he said to him, "I know you don't have a lot of free nights when you manage to scam a nice place to bring the ladies home to, but I was wondering whenever you get the time, why don't you stop over at my place and spend the night? We could have a lot of fun, there's a guy there who…"

"We'll talk about it later, Murdock," Face told him as he moved Murdock's hand off his shoulder. He turned and noticed that Hannibal seemed oblivious to the conversation they'd been having, his mind seemed to be somewhere else far away. "Hannibal, you alright?"

Now somebody was home to go with the lights being on. He looked at Face and answered, "Fine…just thinking about something."

"What?" Face asked.

Hannibal smirked as he dug a cigar out of his pocket and answered, "I've got another plan."

"Uh oh," Face couldn't help commenting.

"Yeah," Hannibal replied as he bit down on the cigar, "But I think you're going to like this one, Face."

"Somehow I doubt that, Hannibal," Face told him.

"What'd you have in mind, Colonel?" Murdock asked him.

Author's note: Only one more chapter to go.


	22. Chapter 22

Murdock whistled and called out, "Billy! Come here, Billy!"

"Murdock," Jean said to him, "I still don't get why you had to drag me out of bed to help you look for your dog."

A few days had passed and during that time, Jean had made an amazing recovery and was to the point that when the A-Team returned to check on her, she met them out in the waiting room as she ran and tried to hide from the doctors who insisted on her physical therapy. She told Hannibal that if she was well enough to run from the doctors, then it proved she didn't need the physical therapy. He had only laughed and said, "Well, you've got a point there."

Earlier that day, Murdock had come to her room carrying a box, and he told Jean that they had ransacked everybody's bags in the van and didn't have any trouble finding her a change of clothes, but they couldn't find another pair of shoes for her to wear. And, it had also been pointed out, she couldn't wear those oversized boots again because Hannibal had stuffed them into the hospital's incinerator several days ago. So, they'd picked up a new pair for her and she laughed when she saw they were a pair of black Converse sneakers just like his.

And that night, Murdock had come into the room and woken her up and told her that Billy was missing and he needed her to help him look for the dog. Jean was ready to believe he really was crazy but she had gotten up, gotten dressed, and he'd helped her out the window and they hit the ground looking for the dog. In all honesty, Jean was relieved to be out of the hospital, but she still didn't understand why Murdock needed _her_ to help him look for Billy.

"Why didn't you get Face to help you look for him?" Jean asked.

"Oh I couldn't do that," Murdock answered as they walked along the dark street a few blocks away from the hospital, "Billy wouldn't come for Face, the other day Billy bit him because he grabbed him by the tail, accidentally of course, but Billy's still sore about it."

"Oh yeah?" Jean replied, "What if _I_ bit Billy? Could I stop looking for him then?"

"Ohhh you," Murdock said sarcastically, "Look, why don't we sit down for a minute, and maybe we'll get lucky and Billy will come pass by _us_?"

"Sure, fine with me," Jean agreed as they sat down on the curb, "You know Murdock, we haven't seen much of you guys in the last few days, I was starting to think maybe Lynch was catching up with you and you guys had to get out of Dodge."

"Nah, not us," Murdock told her, "Not yet anyway. But uh, we've had some other things to tend to, you know."

"I can imagine," Jean said, "Tell me something, Murdock, if you had it to do over again, to go back to Vietnam, do you think you would've done anything differently?"

Murdock thought about it for a minute before shaking his head and answering, "No."

"Even though it means being hunted like a dog for the rest of your days?" Jean asked, "For something you didn't do?"

Murdock nodded, "Yeah, I think so. Think about it, if we hadn't been put in the position we were, what would we be doing now? Certainly _not_ what we _are _doing."

"And you wouldn't have to be locked up in the V.A. and Hannibal might actually be able to work in movies where he could show his face," Jean added, "It would make all your lives a lot easier."

"Yeah but that could get boring after a while," he told her, "And, it's not always about that, there's also to take into consideration all the people we offer our services to. People like your parents…I try to think of how many people like that we've helped over the years…" he shook his head, "Never remember the numbers, but I remember them, we all do, some more than others but we remember them all. You were right when you said that."

Jean tried to think back, "What did I say?"

"That we help the people the police and the army can't or won't…that's our purpose in life, and we have that purpose because we have to live the way we do," Murdock told her, "That's why I wouldn't do anything different, and I don't believe that the others would either."

"You're good people," Jean said, "I think I was right about that one too." She lowered her head and brought her hand up as if it were supporting her forehead and said, "You know it's weird, now that it's all over, it's almost like it was just a nightmare…but it wasn't, it was real, it was all real."

"It gets easier to deal with," Murdock told her as he reached over and squeezed her shoulder supportively, "In time."

"You've had ten years, is it any easier for you?" Jean asked.

"Mmm, some days," he answered, "Other days…" he stared off at something straight ahead and said, "It's all ammonia."

Jean looked at him with wide eyes and watched him like she expected him to go off like a rocket, and when nothing happened she chanced asking, "Ammonia?"

Murdock nodded and told her, "It _does_ get easier, once you have a chance to get away from it. You're lucky you were only in it for six months."

"But how do you get away from it when you're in a Veterans Administration hospital?" Jean asked.

"I have a lot of nice distractions," he explained, "Including the routine jail break to go on another mission."

Jean nodded and looked straight ahead and she tapped Murdock's arm and said, "There's Billy."

"Where?" Murdock looked.

"Over there, by that old house," Jean pointed across the street, "He's going up to the porch."

"Come on, let's go get him," Murdock got up and started across the street, whistling and cupping his hands around his mouth as he called, "Yo, Billy!"

Jean followed behind Murdock and they went into the yard and up the sidewalk to the large dark two-story house that looked like it was falling apart. The porch boards creaked under their feet as they stepped up and Jean thought they'd fall through. The front door was slightly ajar and Billy had gone inside.

"You think anybody lives here?" Jean asked.

"I don't think so," Murdock answered, "Who'd live in a place this condemned?"

Murdock slowly opened the door and they stepped in; even though nobody seemed to live there, they were both quiet as they made their way through the hall and past the dining room. They heard a door close ahead of them and they found the door, Murdock opened it and Jean walked in ahead of him; as soon as she set foot into the room she heard a sound and was immediately blinded by the lights that came on.

"SURPRISE!"

The sudden appearance of Hannibal, Face, and B.A. dressed in their Green Beret uniforms standing in front of her stunned her for a second, but she quickly recovered and reached out to hit the one closest to her as she said, "Don't _ever_ do that to somebody that just had heart surgery, you moron!" The initial shock passed and she asked them, "So what's all this for? Did Lynch finally bite it?"

"No, not yet," Hannibal said with a mischievous smirk, "This is something better."

"Oh yeah?" Jean noted how they were dressed and asked suspiciously, "What's with all the brass?"

"Well it's only proper for an award ceremony," Hannibal told her.

"A what?" Jean turned and saw Murdock had done a quick change and was wearing an Air Force uniform, also heavily decorated in medals and badges.

Face picked up something off the table behind them and marched over to Jean and held out something green for her to take. She did and unfolded it and saw it was a plain green army jacket, except for one thing; stitched over the breast pockets were the words CORPORAL and RHODES.

"You'll have to excuse if they're not quite right," Face held up his hands and showed several fingers were bandaged, "But sewing was never one of my strong suits."

Jean laughed and said, "Come on, what is this?"

"Go ahead and put it on," Hannibal told her.

Jean looked at the three of them watching her and she turned and saw Murdock standing behind her with an amused look on his face in anticipation as well and she said, "It's silly, but alright." She slipped her arms into the sleeves and straightened out the collar and she felt Murdock tugging it down in the back, and she looked at it and how it fit her, a size large but it still fit, and she looked at Hannibal and said, "I don't get it."

"You're familiar with the term honorary members?" Hannibal asked her, "Well, even though you did _not_ complete training when you joined the army, it has been decided that you are to be declared an honorary corporal."

"Corporal?" Jean repeated, and noticed the two stripes just under the shoulder on the sleeve, "I don't get the joke."

"It's no joke," Hannibal told her, "As Colonel it is my job to know the ranks of those I encounter, I identified you as a corporal and I hold myself to that identification and you to that rank. Regardless of the extent of your training, you put your own life on the line and engaged in combat of the most unimaginable kind; against our own fellow Americans, whose actions ought to earn them the title of terrorists, but all technicalities aside the fact remains you served in a war that like any other, should never have been. We will never know how many innocent lives were stomped out by the war, how many young men were cut off in their prime, due to traitorous actions on behalf of the men who were supposed to train them to serve their own country. But also we will never know how many lives were spared because of your actions. You fought for your country and your fellow men, and for that we salute you."

Murdock walked over to stand alongside the others and the four commandos stood straight and extended their right arms in the proper salute, then lowered them, and Hannibal said, "And now for the award ceremony." He turned to Murdock and said, "Captain."

Murdock marched over to Jean and she looked down and saw him pin a bronze medal on a blue and gold ribbon onto the front of her jacket and he looked her in the eyes and said, "The Air Medal, to acknowledge acts of aerial heroism." He saluted her again, and stepped aside as Face came up to her.

Jean pulled on the jacket to get a better view of the medal and the only thing she could think to say was, "Are you serious?"

The medal Face pinned on her jacket was round and bronze on a blue and white striped ribbon and he saluted her as he explained, "The United Nations Korea Medal."

"Wait a minute," Jean said, "Murdock's is bad enough but I sure as hell can't take _this_ one, I never served in Korea."

Face looked at her and said, "Well neither did I, but I still got it, and now you do."

Behind them, Hannibal chuckled at that remark, and then turned to the sergeant, "B.A."

Face got out of the way and B.A. came up to Jean and she saw his was a bronze medal on a green and white striped ribbon, and she was sure either his rings would make it too awkward to effectively pin on, or she would die from the blood loss when he did.

"The Army Commendation Medal," B.A. explained as he got it on her jacket on the first try, "Also for acts of heroism."

He too saluted her, then he stepped out of the way and Hannibal stepped up to her and took out his medal from behind his back.

"And last but not least, the Purple Heart," he said as he pinned it beside B.A.'s medal and saluted her, "For those injured while serving."

Jean put her hand on the jacket and saw the medals and she looked up at the four men and said, "I can't take these."

"Why not?" Hannibal asked her, "Who's going to know the difference?"

Jean grabbed at the medals and tried to unpin them, "You guys bled for these, you're the ones that deserve them."

"We probably did at the time that we got them," Hannibal replied, "But that was a long time ago. We took a vote and decided they might look better on somebody new who also deserved them." Jean opened her mouth but Hannibal cut her off, "Kid, I served in two wars, and I still don't think if I'd been in your position at your age, that I would've been able to do what you did. It was a bad situation for _anybody_ to be put in, and I know you've been put through hell and that you had to sacrifice a lot to end the killings, and I know that most people if they'd been put in your position would never have been able to do anything about it, either out of fear, or because they never would've been able to escape undetected. You are of a rare kind and outside of the four of us, you're never going to get the recognition you deserve for the services you performed, so, as the highest ranking officer here, I order you to shut up and just enjoy this."

"Yeah," Face said as he went back to the table, "Look at this." He picked up a bottle of champagne and said, "This time I _know_ we got the good stuff, at $70 a bottle it can't be anything but."

Jean laughed and buried her face in her hands and ran them up to her hair and commented, "I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to say."

"You can start by saying 'thank you', woman," Murdock said teasingly as he came up to her and walked her over to the table, "Come on, Face, uncork the bubbly."

"Murdock, please, I know what I'm doing."

Jean saw that there were two bottles of champagne on the table and a glass pitcher of ice water and six glasses.

"Is somebody joining us?" she asked.

"No," Hannibal answered.

Face poured them four glasses of champagne and Murdock and Jean took theirs and Jean asked Face, "Why're there only four here?"

"B.A. doesn't drink champagne," Face answered.

"Or anything with a proof rating on it," Murdock explained, "Ain't that right, B.A.?"

"That's right, fool."

"Fine, I'll take his too," Jean picked up another glass and told Face, "Pour it on."

"I knew you'd say that," Face laughed as he filled her second glass.

After they'd had a few drinks, Murdock took out a tape recorder and pressed the play button and when the music started he bowed to Jean and asked her, "Would you care to dance?"

"Why not?" Jean raised her left foot till it practically met with his nose, showing off her new sneakers and said, "At least this time I got some shoes that actually fit for the occasion." And they danced just as they had back at the hotel.

"I still don't get it," she said to Murdock, and pointed to the medal he'd given her, "Why'd you give me this?"

"Well actually," he told her, "I just picked it because I liked it the best, though," he pointed to B.A., "The angry mudsucker said you deserved it since the first time you flew in your life, you were able to endure flying with me without having to be knocked out or tied up." He rolled his eyes.

Jean laughed at his answer. Either the champagne was starting to take effect or Murdock was just in a particularly silly mood because as they danced, he said to her, "I've never danced with a corporal before, have you?"

"No," she answered, "I've never danced with _any_ man in uniform," and she returned, "how about _you_?"

"Well," Murdock let go of her hand and pointed to Face, "Technically _not_ in uniform at the time but…"

"Murdock," Face came up to him and tried to get between them, "You mind if I cut in?"

"Oh sure," and this time Murdock handed Jean off to Face and went over to the table and stood beside Hannibal.

Murdock leaned over to Hannibal and said quietly to him, "So what's the plan, Colonel? When we get done here do we…?" B.A. had his back to them and Murdock mimicked pressing down on a syringe plunger.

Hannibal shook his head, "No, B.A. and Face and I will go back east in the van, we're going to need it because once we get the Rhodes family home, we're going to have you dump the helicopter because it's going to get too risky trying to fly it back another time, and after the others were found to be used as the choice of transportation for the ring, it would be better if nobody else could get their hands on it either."

Murdock nodded glumly, he hated having to ditch the copter but he knew Hannibal was right.

"Hey come on, B.A." Face grabbed Jean by the arm and walked her over to the sergeant, "You take a turn with her now."

"Yeah come on, B.A.," Jean repeated, the slurs in her voice made it obvious the champagne was already working its way through her, "Come on, let's dance."

B.A. couldn't help smiling, he took her off Face's arm and was careful about touching her; she was still recovering and he didn't want to cause a setback by grabbing her too hard, so he just loosely placed one hand on her shoulder and took her hand in his other one and, more or less in time with the music, the two of them did little more than stepping around in circles. Jean looked down at their feet and then looked up to make eye contact with B.A. and she threw her head back and laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I just realized," she said as she looked down again and then up at him, "That you're the shortest one in the team." For some reason she found that hysterical and couldn't stop laughing.

B.A. tried to maintain his sour look but failed as a chuckle escaped from him as well. After a few minutes, Jean broke away from him and went over to Hannibal and said, "Well, Colonel?"

"I should've known I couldn't get out of it twice," Hannibal jokingly remarked.

"Well, might as well do this one right," Jean said, and wrapped her arms around Hannibal's neck.

He choked and pulled her hands off of him and told her, "Very funny, very funny." He wrapped one arm around her back and grabbed her hand in his and they started off on a bit more traditional foot than the others had.

Halfway through the dance, Jean leaned against Hannibal and he knew that the champagne combined with the exhaustion of this being her first night out of the hospital, were going to be sending her to sleep before long, but she was awake enough to murmur to him, very clearly, "Thanks, Hannibal."

He couldn't resist smiling as he patted her on the back and told her, "You're welcome, Jean."

Jean managed to stay awake long enough to finish dancing with him but when she went back to Murdock a second time, she conked out in his arms halfway through the dance. Face turned off the tape recorder and Hannibal asked Murdock, "You sure she's asleep?"

"Oh yeah, Colonel, she's out like a busted light," Murdock answered as he sat Jean down in a chair by the table.

"Good, get the jacket off of her," Hannibal said, "And make sure it's buried in one of her bags, even if she _does_ remember tonight, she won't know she still has it until we've already gone and she can't try and wriggle out of keeping the medals." He looked at Jean and commented, "We'd either be buried with them or they'd be stolen as soon as we had a toe tag on, let them serve a purpose for somebody else. Tomorrow we'll see what the doctors say and if she's able to leave the hospital, then we'll get she and her folks back home."

Murdock picked up the tape recorder and carried it under one arm and her jacket in the other, Face took the remaining half bottle of champagne, and B.A. lifted Jean up and carried her in his arms. Murdock couldn't help himself and called out, "King Kong rides again!"

"Shut up, fool," B.A. told him, "And get the door."

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you wouldn't rather fly with us?" Jean asked Face the next morning as she and Murdock got her luggage and her parents settled in the helicopter.<p>

"Thanks but no thanks," Face replied, "I think it'll be crowded enough as is."

"It's what," Jean asked Murdock, "A five hour flight?"

"I think we should be able to make it in four actually," he told her.

"But then how long will it take for you guys to get there?" Jean asked Face.

"A bit longer," he said simply instead of trying to figure the math on that one, especially since he knew the regulated speed limits and whatever number on the speedometer B.A. opted for were often two different things.

"Okay," Jean gave in, "Well we'll see you guys later."

Face hugged her and gave her her last travel bag, and Murdock came up and knocked the wind out of Face by locking him in a fierce bear hug as well and said, "Until we meet again, au revoir, mein freund."

"We'll see you later, Murdock," Face told him.

Murdock nodded and went back to the Huey and helped Jean into the cockpit, and got in himself and treated it like a 747 and he spoke like an auctioneer giving the passengers the pre-takeoff lecture about seats in an upright position, no smoking, keep seatbelts buckled until further notice, and he also noted that the in-flight movie of Airport '75 was canceled on account of rain.

"Man I feel bad for them, Hannibal," B.A. said as they watched the chopper take off, "It's a wonder that crazy fool didn't scare her parents to death when he went and got them the first time. Now they got to fly back with him."

"It's worth it," Hannibal replied, "They've got Jean now, that's all that matters to them. Now let's get going."

Face picked up Murdock's bag that he had entrusted to the others to bring in the van and went to put it in the back when one of the zippers fell open and several things fell onto the ground. Face picked up a large pair of sunglasses, the planchette to the Ouija board, and a small book, which Hannibal recognized as being the Gideon Bible.

"Where'd that come from?" he inquired. Murdock might be crazy but he was too crazy to steal the Bible from a motel somewhere.

Face smirked and answered, "Jean, she told me that she swiped it from the last motel we stayed at, and she gave it to Murdock this morning before you guys arrived at the hospital."

"What on earth for?" Hannibal asked.

"Jean told him to keep it on the Ouija board, to keep it quiet," Face explained.

Hannibal eyed him quizzically and commented, "I seem to recall seeing that in a movie once."

"Think it'll work?" Face asked.

"Anymore than I think the Ouija board works?" Hannibal replied with a knowing smirk.

"Well, it did last time," Face said, "Or something did anyway."

"Well come on, let's get going," Hannibal told him, "We've got a long drive ahead of us, Murdock already explained that he landed the chopper just out of New York, and he ran to the Rhodes' house and they drove back to the chopper. So they'll be returning there for the car, but he needs room to dump the helicopter, so we agreed he's going to land it in New Jersey right by the oceanfront, because that's easy access to the water and also the closest way to get back to the car. And since Murdock left his clothes here, I don't want him standing around like a drowned rat anymore than he has to after he dumps that chopper into the Atlantic."

* * *

><p>It was after 3 o' clock in the afternoon when they arrived in New Jersey, where it didn't take them long to find Murdock and the Rhodes'. Murdock had managed to find a secluded place to land them and ditch the chopper; Jean's father had gone on ahead to get the car and he would drive it back to pick the others up so they could drive straight home, and while he was gone, Murdock <em>had<em> been standing around like a drowned rat and shivering after he swam back to the shore. Jean explained to Face that she tried to help him but he had absolutely refused to borrow a change of her clothes, even if she did owe it to him.

"Probably just as well," Face said and looked over to the pilot, "You alright, Murdock?"

Murdock wrung out the bottom of his shirt for what was probably the 20th time and he said, "A little damp, Lieutenant."

Face held up Murdock's bag and told him, "We got your clothes here; you can change in the van."

"Good," Murdock said as he walked up to Face, "Between you and me I didn't like the idea of changing with _them_ around," and he pointed back to Jean and her mother.

"Well you could've had them cover their eyes," Face suggested.

"Yeah but they still might hear me," he replied.

Hannibal walked over to the two women who were currently seated on their suitcases and he asked them, "How's it going, ladies?"

"Just fine, Mr. Smith," Mrs. Rhodes answered.

"How was the flight?" he asked.

"It was great," Jean said.

"It was a bit bumpy on the way back," Mrs. Rhodes told Hannibal, "I'll admit, I started to get nervous."

"How about you?" Hannibal asked Jean.

She shook her head, "I have full faith in a Thunderbird…boy, you could put him in a large paper airplane and he'd find a way to pilot it, wouldn't he?"

"Probably," Hannibal answered. He looked from Jean to her mother, and he stopped because he hardly recognized the woman. He knew that this was the same woman he had seen earlier in the day and almost every day for a week or so now, but she didn't look the same at all. Just as the years seemed to have been peeled off of Jean overnight, it looked like they had likewise been taken off of Mrs. Rhodes' face as well and now she looked more like a woman of her age should've, if not a little younger, instead of a woman 20 years her senior.

Hannibal went around to the van and rapped on the back door and said, "You decent, Murdock?"

The door opened and Murdock stepped out wearing his Napoleon T-shirt and blue jeans, "You rang, Colonel?"

"Did you have any problems?" Hannibal asked him.

"Uh…no, Colonel," Murdock shook his head, "You know, we landed, I got everybody off, and all the luggage, then I took it up again and went out over the ocean and jumped out and let it plunge to its watery end."

"Good, and nobody saw anything."

Murdock shook his head, "If there's anybody around here, they're the invisible man."

"That's good work, Captain," Hannibal told him, "And it isn't just a matter of nobody saw us arrive, so nobody can report seeing us here, but also that nobody else can use the chopper now either, so it can't be used for anything else that could possibly get traced back to us."

Murdock nodded and explained, "We decided to wait here so you'd know where we were but…"

"Yeah I know," Hannibal said, "We wouldn't have been able to get everybody in the van, so as soon as Mr. Rhodes returns with the car we can escort them back to the house and make sure they get there alright."

They didn't have long to wait. After about 10 minutes they saw a car coming their way and it came to a stop and Jean and her mother picked up the bags and headed over to it and got in. Likewise, the team piled into the van and followed behind the car; by now the whole nightmare seemed to be over, but Hannibal didn't believe in taking any chances now, he wanted to make sure that nobody was at the house waiting for the family to return. They'd come too close to tragedy twice already, the third time wasn't going to prove to be a charm for anybody.

* * *

><p>"Hannibal," Face said later that afternoon after they'd arrived at the Rhodes' home, "We've been around this house three times already, we checked behind all the doors, in all the closets, under all the beds, if there <em>is<em> somebody in this house who shouldn't be, he'd have to be the hide and seek champion of the world."

"Yeah," Hannibal started to admit defeat, "And we checked the yard, nobody hiding, no booby traps, or trip wires, or hidden cameras. I guess they're as safe now as they're going to be."

"So can we go in and unpack now?" Jean asked.

Hannibal looked at Face and then to Jean and said, "Yeah, it should be alright."

"Uh…" Hannibal and Face turned around and saw Jean's mother was addressing them as she said, "You gentlemen aren't going to head right back to L.A. are you?"

"Well that _was_ kind of the plan," Face said.

"After driving all day already?" she asked.

Jean came back out the front door and told them, "She's got a point, and it'll be getting dark soon, why don't you guys just stay here for the night and then start out tomorrow?"

Face looked to Hannibal to see what the colonel said about it. Hannibal shrugged and said, "She's got a point, if Lynch_ would_ already be looking for us again, he wouldn't think to come here, so we've bought some time off his radar. That is of course, _if_ it won't be any trouble."

"No problem," Jean answered for her mother, "We don't have any guest rooms but we can find a place for you guys to sleep."

Hannibal still acted a bit reluctant about it, "Well…I'm not sure…"

"Mr. Smith, please," Mrs. Rhodes said, a hint of desperation in her voice, "You wouldn't take the money, let us do at least this much for you."

"Well it's hard to argue about that, especially with such a pretty woman," he told her.

"Great," Jean turned to Face and said, "Let's find the others and tell them."

They went around to the back and found B.A. and Murdock, who was currently getting the cider squeezed out of his Adam's apple again because he was driving B.A. crazy again. They ran over and Face got between them and told B.A. they'd been invited to stay for the night, and that Hannibal had accepted for them.

"Good," Murdock said as he rubbed his throat, "Give the angry mudsucker a chance to calm down."

* * *

><p>Murdock and Face went with Jean up to her room, each of them carrying one of her bags, and they stayed behind her and tried to remove her jacket from her bag before she could see it. Murdock managed to get it out and zip the bag back up without Jean noticing, and he reached into his pocket and took out an envelope and slipped it into one of the jacket pockets. It had been agreed on that they would each take $1,500 out of the money Jean had given them for expenses, but the other $19,000 would be returned to her; maybe it hadn't been hers to take but the money could better benefit she and her parents than the kind of people she took it off of. When they got into her room and she collected her bags from them, Murdock kept the jacket behind his back with one hand, gave her her bag with the other, and then immediately backed over and collapsed on the bed. She and Face turned at the noise and saw him bouncing on the mattress and he commented, "Nice springs, I can tell they ain't been worn out yet."<p>

Jean turned around and saw her room and all that it held for the first time in six months and she was practically in a daze by it.

"Man," she said, "I either need to clean this place out or run it through with a bulldozer. What did I ever start collecting all this junk for in the first place?"

Face watched as Murdock rolled the jacket up and placed it under the bed, neither man thought that would be a priority place for her to check anything immediately.

"Who knows?" Face asked as he watched Murdock, then decided to change the subject and he went over to Jean and said to her, "About the sleeping arrangements."

"I've been thinking about that," she said, "We can put somebody on the couch, somebody in the recliner, and then we've got a couple of cots put away in the basement. I know it's nothing great but it's the best we can do on short notice. It's either that or two people can bunk up here with me but I honestly don't think my poor mother can take anymore excitement."

"I'm sure the living room will be fine," Face told her.

* * *

><p>Immediately upon awakening the next morning, Hannibal couldn't recall too well the events of the previous night. Then it came back to him; Mrs. Rhodes had cooked two batches of fried chicken for dinner, afterwards they just sat in the living room and talked to one another, but he couldn't remember now <em>what<em> they had talked about. He remembered it had gotten late and Jean stayed up to talk with them even though her parents, drained by everything they had been put through recently, had gone up to bed for the night.

And now…Hannibal looked around the living room, B.A. was asleep on the couch, he had fallen asleep in the recliner next to the couch, and Murdock and Face had agreed to sleep on the cots on the floor, but during the night Face's cot had fallen flat and he had slept through it, and Murdock had completely turned over and fallen off of his and caused the cot to turn over with him, and he also remained oblivious to the fact. Hannibal had half expected to see Jean somewhere in this mess, and as he got up he did notice an extra sheet and pillow on the floor between the captain and the lieutenant, but Jean was nowhere to be found.

Nobody moved as he got up, they were still so out of it that nobody heard him moving around; the sun was already coming up outside and pouring in through the windows, and out the window, Hannibal saw Jean standing out in the yard with her back to the house. He went out the front door and down the porch steps and saw she didn't move from where she was; he raised his forearm over his eyes to block out the sun as he went over to her and he asked her, "You alright, Jean?"

She didn't answer him at first and didn't move; then slowly she turned to Hannibal and said, "Do you have any idea how many times I was only 15 minutes away from this place and I still could never come back?"

He tried to see it through her eyes; he imagined it was about the same as suddenly seeing the sky again after being locked in solitary confinement for three months. After an ordeal like that, the littlest things suddenly became God's greatest miracles.

"You're back now," he said.

"Yes," she said as she looked around, "For a while I never thought I'd see this place again."

* * *

><p>Hannibal had gotten the others up and they were trying to get on the road before Jean's parents woke up because he felt certain that if they didn't get moving soon, her mother might snag them into staying for breakfast as well.<p>

"So I guess this is the end of it," Jean said as she helped them haul their bags out to the van, "You guys are going to be in the wind and I ain't ever gonna see you again."

"Oh I wouldn't be too sure about that," Face told her, "I'm sure someday we'll be crossing through here again and we'll see you."

Murdock came running up to join the others and he grabbed Jean and hugged her goodbye; she reciprocated and then moved over to hug Face, who was happy to repay the favor. When she pulled away, Jean took a newspaper out of her back pocket and told him, "By the way, I picked up a newspaper before we left Chicago the other day, and I think you'll find the front page story very interesting."

"Thanks, I'll read it later," Face told her as he took the rolled up paper from her.

Jean took a step over to B.A. with her arms half outstretched and asked him, "Well?"

B.A. laughed and loosely hugged her and told her, "You behave yourself, mama."

"Same to you, you big angry mudsucker," Jean said as she pulled away from him.

Hannibal stood beside the van with his hands in his pockets, always more reserved than the others; but at the last second he reached forward and wrapped his arm around her in a casual embrace.

"Thanks again, Hannibal," she said to him.

"You're welcome, kid," he told her.

Hannibal let go and pulled away from Jean but it didn't matter much because Murdock had gone around to the other end and was waiting with open arms for another hug, Jean laughed as she obliged him.

"Alright, everybody in," Hannibal said, and he turned to Jean and added, "You'll tell your parents we said goodbye."

"Yeah, sure," she smiled, "Hannibal, I know you didn't keep the money I gave you, I don't know _where_ you put it but I wish you would've kept it."

"That's alright, we already deducted what was necessary for business expenses," Hannibal told her.

"You still should've kept it," she said, "At least you'd keep above water for the next time you get a client that can't pay you."

"I think you and your family could get more use out of it than we could," Hannibal replied, and the subject ended there because it was obvious he wouldn't budge on it.

They got in the van and through the windows had one more exchange of goodbyes before B.A. got them on the road again and in a few seconds Jean was a blurred image off in the distance behind them. They drove for half an hour before anybody finally spoke, during that time Hannibal watched the road signs, Murdock petted Billy, and Face finally took the newspaper out of his pocket and unrolled it.

"You think she'll be alright, Colonel?" Murdock asked.

"Yeah I think she'll be fine," Hannibal said.

The backseat erupted in a noise that sounded like a chicken was being strangled; Hannibal turned and saw it was Face reacting to the headline in the paper.

"What is it?" he asked.

Face swallowed whatever he was going to say the first couple of times before getting out, "Lynch has been arrested."

"What? Let me see that," Hannibal took the newspaper from him and read the front page story, "Colonel Francis Lynch of the United States Army was arrested early Monday morning in connection to a robbery after the Chicago Police Department received a tip from an anonymous caller alerting them to Lynch's whereabouts and allegations regarding a large amount of stolen money. A search of Lynch's personal belongings turned up a discovery of $50,000 in large bills, which, identified by serial numbers were revealed to have been seized from a bank robbery in Los Angeles in 1979. As most of the bills were found to contain traces of cocaine, police are further investigating as to whether drug charges will be added. Col. Lynch denies the charges and proclaims his innocence, investigation and possible extradition to California are pending."

Face and Murdock stared at each other with equally dropped jaws and they all pondered the same question. They didn't have to go far to find a who for it, they remembered Jean's rant early on when they met about something happening to damage Lynch's credibility, if about $50,000 were to be found on _him_ and he be arrested for robbery and see how well he liked it. But the how was another mystery.

"Jean said it's impossible to spend as much money as the people in the cartels make, apparently that's true if she could throw $50,000 away on having Lynch busted for something that he didn't do," Hannibal commented.

Face quickly recovered from the shock and told Hannibal, "Of course you know those charges will never stick."

"Probably not," Hannibal smirked as he took out a new cigar and bit down on it, "But for a while anyway, now Lynch gets to find out what it's like to be arrested for a crime he didn't commit, I hope he enjoys it, I know we will." And he grinned like a cat that just swallowed a 10 pound canary.

Murdock was laughing hysterically and throwing his head back against the seat and he told the others, "Brutus may be gone but obviously she's still got a little devil inside of her!"

The End


End file.
